A Woman Like the Sea
by SLimac
Summary: AU: Emma Swan never expected for her blind date to be the same person who was her only friend as a child. When Emma and Killian are reunited they decide that being just friends is enough for them. But were they ever really just friends? The answer becomes more complicated the longer they are together, especially after a serious accident makes Emma reconsider her decisions.
1. Atlantic Captain

_A/N: _Hi! I'm back from vacation and ready to write again! I really missed you all so I hope at least some of you are pleased that I'm starting a new story. This idea came from Apenforaprincess who sent me a lovely suggestion after The Absence of You ended. I know this isn't exactly what you suggested but I hope it is still enjoyable for you and anyone else who decides to read the story. I'm really excited about it!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belongs to ABC and the show's creators, Adam and Eddie.

"Emma, please?" Mary Margaret whined, sliding closer on the couch so she hung off Emma's shoulder like some sort of wet facecloth. Sure, Mary Margaret was a graceful wet facecloth but it was still irritating to Emma who wanted to talk about anything but her non-existent love life.

"I'm quite content with my life the way it is, thanks ever so much." Emma tried to put some space between them, shifting against the couch's arm. She had absolutely no desire to go along with the scheme her best friends had come up. "Help me out, David," she called over her shoulder towards the kitchen.

David came out, shaking his head, blond hair flopping into his eyes at the movement. He handed Emma her tea then raked the hair back into place. "Considering this answer determines whether I sleep on the couch or with my beautiful wife I'm going to have to say no. You're on your own, Emma."

Emma huffed. Of course David would side with Mary Margaret. He had married Mary Margaret two years previously, just after graduating from college. They were so compatible with each other that it sometimes made Emma wonder how she'd even become connected with the two. She wasn't exactly the best at love, which was proudly placed at the top of both Mary Margaret and David's enviable skill lists.

"Traitor!" Emma shot back. David was usually on her side when it came to Mary Margaret playing matchmaker because he was Emma's partner at work and had to spend all day with her. A cranky Emma was no fun. Of course Mary Margaret had never been this insistent before and she may or may not have been lording something over her husband to ensure his compliance.

"Hey, I married her," David answered easily. "It's written in a clause that I agree with her. And anyways, Emma, would it kill you to go on a date every once and a while?"

"Yes," Emma replied petulantly, clearly outnumbered and sensing defeat. She took a sip of her tea and glared at the yellow wall of the Nolan's loft's living room.

She didn't want to date because she didn't want everything that came with a relationship. They were too much work. Too much risk. With a stable job in a career field she loved and friends who kept her from being a complete hermit when she had time off, what more did she need? As long as she was comfortable and safe things really didn't need to change. Emma had spent enough time living in a state of constant flux to have developed a distaste for it.

"Come on Emma! The guy sounds lovely," Mary Margaret wheedled, leaning in closer still.

"Because you can read his personality from a screen name?" Emma drawled, unimpressed. The two had had this argument at least ten times this week, ever since Mary Margaret had spilled the beans on her and Emma's other best friend Ruby's little plan to get Emma back into the dating world. They had created a profile on some online dating site without her knowledge a few months previously and had been searching for a match since then. Apparently they had just recently found one they deemed suitable. Mary Margaret looked sheepish, ducking her head slightly at the comment.

"We'll no, but at least he didn't call himself Modern Day Adonis or something equally as ego stoking." Mary Margaret tilted up the iPad and entered her password to make the screen light up. She scanned the paragraph of whoever she was planning on being Emma's Prince Charming before turning back, eyes aglow. "The guy goes by Atlantic Captain. It says he's a marine biologist working on a fishing trawler, aged 24. Loves the ocean and is looking for a woman just like the sea - a force of nature to be reckoned with but beautiful all the same."

Emma rolled her eyes while Mary Margaret swooned over the passage. Emma saw right through the flowery words. People didn't talk like that anymore- especially not men looking for a hookup online. Mary Margaret seemed to romanticize the idea of online dating but Emma didn't buy the sentiment. It  
sounded too much like a passage from the inside of a Hallmark card.

Life wasn't a rom-com. It was cold and hard and anything but fair. People threw you away like trash and never looked back. People served a purpose and then, when said job was done they were as useless as a dirty Kleenex and treated as such. Emma knew that quite well.

"Does he even have a picture?" What did this most likely fictitious person look like? Emma figured the image was probably just a random headshot from last month's GQ.

Mary Margaret looked back at the iPad and cringed. "Well you can't see his face. It is the back of his head, I think. It's out on the ocean." She held up the screen to show Emma.

The back of the man's head was dark and shadowed, hair dishevelled from the ocean wind as he looked out at the water. He wore a bright orange and emerald green rain slicker, the orange hood matching the sky he faced as the sun set. The warm hues of the sky blended together like oil pastels and contrasted with the black churning ocean stretching out in front of him. Emma had to admit- the picture was gorgeous. The complementary sentiment towards Atlantic Captain didn't sit we'll with her.

"That's probably a stock image he got of Google. The guy is probably some wannabe Hugh Hefner looking for some lonely woman to get off on."

"There's one way to find out," Mary Margaret replied cheerfully, ignoring the crudeness of Emma's prior statement. "You've got a date with him on Friday!"

Emma froze, feeling cornered. The urge to fight her way out like a coyote with its leg caught in a bear trap only dampened by the hopeful look on Mary Margaret's face. "What? How?" Emma's voice was breathless as she processed Mary Margaret's words.

"Ruby and I thought he would be a perfect choice so we emailed him a few days ago as you, Sheriff Swan." Emma couldn't even begin too express what she thought of her own screen name, especially since she hadn't earned the title yet, but at this point semantics really weren't at the top of her priority list of things to worry about. "That night he replied saying that he was at sea but they were making a stop for the night in Storybrooke to refuel and he'd love to meet you. He said to meet him at The Harbour Light Restaurant at seven. There will be a reservation under the name of Jones." Mary Margaret passed her a small Post-It note with the same information written across it in Ruby's scratchy handwriting.

Emma sighed and considered the offer as she fiddled with the piece of paper in her hands. If things didn't work out at least the guy was only there for a night before going back out to sea. It wasn't as if she would run into him out on the ocean after the dates do have to make awkward conversation. One night wasn't any form of commitment. Emma could do one night to get her friends off her back. "At least tell me who he thinks I am," Emma said as way of consent.

Mary Margaret squealed happily and launched herself at Emma, enveloping her in a hug while David laughed beside her, completely surprised. Emma wriggled out of her friend's grasp, playing off Mary Margaret's excitement as if her agreeing to go on a date was no big deal. Even though it was. This was the first date Emma had agreed to go on since her second year of college when Neal turned her  
life upside down and reminded her that she was never meant to have someone. She didn't exactly share Mary Margaret's excitement at the prospect of potentially repeating that.

"Thank you, Emma!" She reached over and hugged Emma tightly again. "All he knows is that you live in Storybrooke and work as a police officer." Her voice became gentler at Emma's nervous look, which she noticed when she pulled back. "We didn't say anything about your childhood, Emma. That's your story to tell if you deem this guy worthy. We just wanted you to have company again. It's been so long, Emma, and you deserve it. More than anyone."

"You're just saying that because you already found your Prince Charming." She glanced at David, lounging in the chair as he followed the conversation. A smile pulled at his lips and he winked at Emma.

"The world has room for two happy couples." Mary Margaret answered easily, smiling widely at her husband. "You can have our status too."

Emma shrugged, disbelieving. She hoped the movement would pass for one of mild agreement though, to keep from upsetting Mary Margaret. Because that had been news to her.


	2. Date Night

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Emma aimed at the paper target, arms held out strong in front of her and clicked off the safety on her gun. After a slow breath she pulled the trigger four times in rapid succession, all four bullets going through the head section of the target. Her body barely moved from the pistol recoil, experience giving her confidence. Emma stepped back from the shooting range's counter and pulled down her ear protection, hanging them around her neck as she reloaded her pistol's magazine, pulling the bullets from her back pocket.

"Is there a reason you're down here today, Sergeant?" A voice behind Emma asked. She jumped and whirled. With the gun shots and the heavy duty earphones she wore when practicing shooting she hadn't heard anyone come up behind her. When she arrived at the shooting range earlier with the intent on blowing off some steam with gunpowder and lead she'd been the only one there. Which had suited her just fine.

Standing behind her, hands on his hips as he appraised Emma's work, was Graham, town sheriff and her boss. Wavy brown hair swept lazily across his forehead, his chin covered in a three day scruff that was more attractive than unkempt or slovenly. Pretty much any woman that came into contact with him swooned but Emma wasn't interested.

Graham had been interested in more when they'd been partners for her rookie year but he kept a safe distance romantically from Emma, knowing enough about her to realize that she wasn't frigid so much as protective of her own interests. One surprise kiss was all she'd allowed of him before ending it. They were partners and friends and Emma wasn't looking for anything else. Graham had thankfully respected that. They'd been separated as partners a few months ago when Graham was awarded the position of sheriff after the previous one had retired. Eyes sparkling he took a step closer.

"Needed to blow off some steam," Emma replied noticing Graham was out of uniform, wearing dark jeans and a rugged checkered shirt under his sheriff's coat. She glanced at the clock- it was after five. She had a date in less than two hours._ Shit._

"And what would you need to blow off steam for on a Friday, Emma?" Graham was concerned, eyes searching her face carefully. He knew some about Emma's past, knew that she had been through a lot and that sometimes she dealt with things differently than someone with a more stable upbringing. Even though he wasn't romantically interested in her anymore he still cared whether she was happy and safe.

Emma sighed. The man would want to know why Emma was upset, not because he was Emma's boss but because he was her friend. Friends told friends things that we're bothering them. She could tell Graham.

"I have a date tonight."

Graham laughed, clearly relieved that it wasn't something more serious. "Isn't that a good thing? I mean, it's been years."

"You sound like David," Emma groaned. David was another Sergeant at the department and had actually become Emma's new partner after Graham's promotion. Graham knew the other officer well, along with his spitfire of a ballerina wife. "Mary Margaret set it up. I had no say in the matter."

"Well with that attitude you're sure to thrill the guy. This mystery man will be pounding down your door just to hear your loving tones," Graham drawled, eyebrow raised.

Emma shot him an unamused look before holstering her gun and leaving the headphones on the shooting range's counter. She wasn't even going to respond to that comment.

Emma glanced at the clock again. Mary Margaret would kill her if she didn't get back to her place within the next ten minutes to start getting ready. Emma might be a police officer and carry a loaded gun but she knew better than to cross Mary Margaret.

"If you need a way out tonight shoot me a text and I'll call you with some bogus emergency."

"And risk Mary Margaret finding out and thinking I went instead of calling David? Yeah, no thanks, Sheriff. That would end worse for me than the date ever could."

Graham's warm laugh followed her out of the shooting range and Emma couldn't help but smile along.

The smile was gone by the time she reached her place though, Mary Margaret's car already parked in the drive. Emma's house was a small, a one level tan and brick bungalow with a small manicured front lawn that she rented. Emma knew she could have had an apartment closer to her friends' houses, who all lived in apartments downtown, but she enjoyed having her own house, a place that was all hers, no walls shared, no noisy neighbours to interrupt her routines. Emma had found a real home and was now saving up to actually buy it from her landlord. Until then she would continue to pretend she owned it and revel in the idea of actually having her own place. Finally.

Emma let herself in through the front door, only to be greeted by both Mary Margaret and Ruby, neither looking impressed by her tardiness. Mary Margaret was still wearing her rehearsal clothing, a wraparound sweater, light skirt and tights with sky blue leg warmers. She must have come straight from work and picked Ruby up at her family's diner along the way.

"You're late. Bathroom. Shower. Now." Ruby growled before grabbing her arm and towing her into her bedroom and then into her ensuite bathroom.

"You have ten minutes," Mary Margaret added before shutting the bathroom door.

Emma started the shower then undressed before slipping into the steaming hot water. She let the burn calm her. She could do one date. How hard could it be? Emma had done many things in her past she didn't want to do and survived. And a lot of those things had gone on longer than a few hours. Everyone else seemed to think that Emma was ready to date again. Maybe they knew something she didn't? After stalling for as long as she could Emma shut the tap off, wrapped herself in a clean towel and joined her inpatient friends in her bedroom.

Ruby tossed Emma a shirt as soon as she'd stepped through the door. Emma caught it easily in one hand, using the other to keep her towel in place, and held it up. It was black cotton with leather cap selves and leather panelling down the side, form fitting but not overly tight. It was sexier than Emma would have gone but she knew better than to argue when Mary Margaret was looking more like a trained assassin than a company's principle ballerina. She was really taking the date seriously. Emma took the black skinny jeans from the bed and retreated back to the bathroom without a word.

"You have one hour before I'm shoving you in your car so get out here," Ruby called, giving the door frame a smack after a few minutes. Emma opened the door and gave her a sheepish look. She hadn't meant to upset her friends. She just didn't want to go on a date. But her friends had worked so hard in the name of her happiness so she felt bad. She'd been doing a terrible job at paying back such kindness.

Emma sat on her bed without any more complaints or hesitation while Mary Margaret began to apply makeup to her face, running foundation over her skin before a light dusting of powder to lock the pigments in place. She dusted a natural peach blush over the apples of Emma's cheeks and a bit of highlighter on top of that. A thick band of eyeliner was painted on before Mary Margaret applied a few coats of mascara. Mary Margaret let Emma apply her own peach lip gloss, handing her a tissue to blot off the excess once Emma had capped the colour.

While Mary Margaret worked on her face Ruby began blow drying Emma's hair. Once finished she proceeded to curl the blonde hair into loose curls that fell down Emma's back. Emma was thankful for that- at least she was not going to be subjected to an updo and the bobby pin headache that came with such a style. She was pretty sure she would have a big enough headache as it was after the date.

"There," Mary Margaret said, stepping back and appraising Emma. "All ready."

Emma stood and smoothed her shirt. "Thanks for doing all this guys, you didn't have to."

Ruby gave her a hug. "Sure we did. We wanted to make sure you were smoking hot for this Atlantic Captain. Atlantic Captain won't know what hit him when you walk in." Ruby handed Emma her red leather jacket which she slipped on, glad that she could use it as a type of safety blanket for the date.

Emma tried to smile as they towed her out of the house. Her friends were only asking for one date. It was the least she could do to repay all the kindness they'd showed her over the years. Maybe this date would turn out to be a good thing and Emma would finally find someone? She quickly squashed that thought away as she walked to her car.

Emma drove to the restaurant, nearly turning back five times. The only thing that stopped her was knowing Mary Margaret and Ruby were still back at her house, waiting for the play by play of the evening when she got back. Once parked she had to stop and breathe deeply, head against the steering wheel until her heart slowed to a reasonable pace.

That feeling of weakness made her angry. Because Emma was strong and Neal had turned her into a blubbering mess when it came to relationships. This was all his fault. Neal had ruined her life even though there shouldn't have even been a place for her ex in her heart to begin with. She should have known better than to trust someone like Neal Cassidy. The anger towards Neal pushed Emma out of the car and into the restaurant.

The hostess smiled as she walked in. "Table or reservation?"

"Reservation," Emma answered, scanning the room. Where was this man who supposedly would love to meet her? Was Atlantic Captain there already or was he late? Or had he bailed altogether, not that she would really blame him? It was his only night on land and he was meeting a blind date, who he owed nothing to, instead of going out with friends. Emma wouldn't have made the same decision as  
Atlantic Captain had, not when her friends were also her only family.

The hostess nodded, checked her seating plan then led her to a table near the back where a man was sitting. Emma tried not to panic when she realized her date was waiting for her, probably with some false idea of who she was. One that she would quickly disappoint, as she did every time someone thought they knew her.

The man smiled as Emma approached and stood. Emma tried not to freeze immediately at his handsome appearance. Dark brown hair somewhat styled but messy all the same, as if he'd done it while still out on the boat, fluttered across his forehead. The Atlantic Captain wore black denim and a black button up, the top three buttons undone to reveal dark chest hair. A necklace with strange metal charms hung around his neck, twinkling in the fluorescent glow of The Harbour Light's dining room. Ice blue eyes gleamed in way that was both saucy and endearing. It was obvious that he knew what kind of an effect he had for a first impression from the confident stance he took, balanced strongly in beaten up leather boots, one hand running up to further dishevel his unruly hair.

A nagging feeling started in the pit of Emma's stomach and her hands began to sweat. She immediately wanted to run. Something told her she knew this guy as a kid, back in her foster system days. Which meant he knew what she was, where she came from. That was something she didn't want for a date she was forced to go on. The knowledge of that was too much. She just couldn't place the now mature  
face.

When the man raised a single eyebrow as he motioned for her to come closer it hit Emma. She knew that movement as well as she knew the way David slid into the driver side of the police car they shared or the graceful flickering of Mary Margaret's feet as she practiced in Emma's living room on her days off. This man had been the only friend she'd had during the first fourteen years of her life, even though he had known her for only a short time. And Emma had left that placement without ever telling him goodbye.  
She froze. "Jones?"

Killian froze and balked as well. Recognition dawned on him at the use of his last name. It was what she had called him in the past. Killian looked at her as if she wasn't real. As if she couldn't be real after going missing from his life all those years ago._ "Swan?"_

Emma turned and ran.


	3. Favourite Girl

_A/N:_ Thank you for the lovely reviews. I hope you continue to enjoy the story!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the shows creators.

"Swan!" Killian shouted, racing after her. Emma kept going, hurrying towards her car without looking back. She couldn't face Killian after leaving him without so much as a goodbye all those years ago.

It had broken her heart to do so but it was better that way, because the day before she left he told her he had feelings for her, the first boy to ever do so, to see her for anything other than the new foster kid. She had run then too, without so much as a_ huh_. That night had been the first time Emma was glad she was moved around so quickly because she didn't need to face her own feelings, or even figure them out in a different town.

Killian caught her in the parking lot, grasping her wrist and pulling, his hand larger and rougher than she remembered. He was stronger too, enough to pull her up short. Emma whirled, still in his grasp.

"Did you know it was me?" she shouted. Killian didn't flinch. Not when he had expected her to blow. Anger had been her reaction to any uncomfortable or stressful situation nearly ten years ago as well.

"Did I know that one of my best friends as a kid, who disappeared one night without a trace, would be my blind date? Absolutely not." Emma watched him carefully. Killian's face was genuine and her internal lie detector didn't go off. Maybe this had been just some weird coincidence. Emma waited for him to continue, slightly mollified by the answer and his calm tone. "I had no idea you were even around here, Swan."

"How could you not?" Emma replied confused. "I'm a cop. This is a small town." Shouldn't he have come forward before?

Killian shrugged. "I spend eighty percent of the year either on a boat or in a lab in Boston. When I do come back to Storybrooke I keep a low profile, spend most of my time sleeping off the weeks of manual labour. It's not like I make it a habit to engage in activities with the police, lass. Those kinds of things are usually frowned upon and end up with me either having a ticket and a black eye or spending the night in jail. How was I supposed to know you would come back to some town you spent just three months in?"

Emma shook her head because she didn't have an answer for that really. At least not one she was willing to admit aloud, especially to Killian. Storybrooke had been the only place that had felt even the slightest bit like a home to her. It was the first place she had let someone become her friend; know about the kind of life she had. That person had been Killian. When she graduated she moved back to the small town to take the opening with Graham, not expecting to see the boy she left behind again but just searching for a place to call home, to belong. Mary Margaret and David followed her to Maine a few weeks later when a second position opened up for David on the force. Emma had never thought Killian, whose dreams seemed too big for such a small town, would stick around.

Killian looked down at where his fingers still circled her wrist and sighed, letting go. The loss of contact made Emma's skin go cold. She pushed away the sensation, annoyed. There was no reason for it. This was Killian Jones after all. Albeit a_ much_ more handsome Killian Jones than the one who had sat with  
her at lunch.

"Look, Swan, please don't run. It's my only night on land for the past two weeks. I don't want to have to go back and see the crew just yet."

Killian's tone was just pleading enough to make Emma consider staying. "I can't do this," Emma replied, desperate, motioning between the two of them. How could she go on a date with the man she'd left as soon as he had revealed his feelings for her? She'd been bad at relationships then. Now everything was just cataclysmic for her when it came to romance. Killian didn't deserve that kind of treatment.

Killian smiled at her, understandingly. "I know, Swan. You don't want to date me. But can we still be friends? Because I missed you." Emma's heart thumped uncomfortably in her chest. Killian had missed her? Had actually thought about her after she left? Killian motioned toward the restaurant. "Can't two friends have a dinner together after being apart nearly ten years?"

Dinner with Killian? Yes, she could do that. Truth be told she had missed him too, often regretting the way she left the situation when she felt like indulging in her past mistakes, usually after a few beers. This wouldn't be anything more than friends, the understanding was there from the very beginning. She wouldn't have to worry about being anything other than a friend. She could be a friend. Emma gave a quick nod and started towards the restaurant again.

Killian followed her into the restaurant quietly. Emma slipped into the seat opposite from the one Killian had just vacated without speaking or looking at him. Killian slid into the bench across from her and set both his hands on the table before raising an eyebrow.

"Long time no see, Swan." Emma nodded, not sure what to say. She was still trying to reconcile that the man sitting in front of her was the same Killian Jones she had known in middle school. He certainly didn't look like it.

The Killian Jones she remembered was gawky and stuck in the middle of puberty. At fourteen his voice had finally dropped to a reliably steady timbre and his first patches of facial hair were just starting to grow. In the past ten years he had grown half a foot, not that he was that tall now either. But he was  
taller than Emma with tanned skin and strong arms from time spent working on the water. The biggest difference was that Killian seemed comfortable in his own skin now, a bit of swagger changing his fourteen year old posture, giving smoothness to his actions, as if he knew what kind of effect he had on women. Killian was incredibly handsome, a thought which turned Emma's stomach into an uncomfortable series of knots. She had never thought of Killian as handsome before.

"So, what's it been? Ten years?"

"About that," Emma replied as casually as she could, finally finding her voice. She tried not to stare. This was Killian, the same guy who had watched the first Harry Potter movie with her and not mentioned anything about Emma being an orphan like Harry as some others had during the movie release frenzy, the same friend who had snuck her extra food on the bus ride home, not that she ever kept the snacks for herself with so many other mouths to feed after the fridge was padlocked shut for the night. She had to remember who Killian was to her, an old friend, her first real friend, instead of letting her hormones make stupid lust-filled decisions for her.

Wait, had she just thought about lust and Killian?_ Together? Come on, Emma, get  
your shit together._

"So what have you been up to for the past decade?" Killian asked after ordering two beers for them.

Emma shrugged. She'd been up to a lot but everything she went through wasn't exactly reunion topics, even if this was Killian asking. "Went to college and got a degree in law and corrections. Now I'm a Sargent at the Storybrooke police detachment."

Killian listened intently as she spoke, eyes going large and brows moving upwards. "You went into law enforcement?"

"Surprise you?" Emma asked, raising her own eyebrow. She wasn't as good at the movement as Killian was but she made it work.

"Kind of. I always figured you'd go into social work. Help kids who needed someone to take care of them."

Emma cringed at the table and waited for the waitress to drop off their beers before speaking. Of course Killian would remember what she went through, how he arrived at her house unexpected one evening and caught Emma being hit by the belt of her carer as she put herself between her foster mother and a ten year old who had broken a dish. Emma felt her cheeks blush at the memory, at the image of Killian's face when he stepped into the kitchen that day.

Killian tapped the table in front of her and she glanced up from where she was drawing on the condensation on her glass. "Sorry, Swan. I overstepped. That wasn't good form." Killian truly looked apologetic.

Emma sighed. This dinner was off to a wonderful start. Emma shook her head and swallowed before speaking. She decided to tell him the truth.

"It's alright, Jones. That was a good guess. But a social worker can't throw abusive carers in jail. A cop can."

Killian nodded. "And do you?"

"Whenever I can," she heard her voice harden. Emma took a sip of her beer and glanced through the menu. "What have you been doing?" she asked, flicking through the pages of options in front of her.

"I went to the University of Massachusetts and took a degree in biology. Now I work for a lab at Boston University that's looking at species proliferation on trawler grounds, hence why I'm on a boat so much. I'm technically just supposed to be collecting data and samples but the Captain has a rule- if you're on it,  
you're in it so I also work as a deckhand."

They paused the conversation to order, each asking for fish and chips. Emma tried to ignore the way the waitress leaned forward a bit too much for the cut of her shirt when Killian spoke.

"So do you like it?" Emma asked, shaking her head at the retreating waitress.

"Love it, lass." The passion in Killian's voice made her smile. Even at fourteen he had told her he belonged on the ocean. She was glad he'd succeeded in reaching that dream. "There's no place that I'd rather be. Though it does make meeting people difficult," he added wryly.

"Hence the online dating profile?"

Killian shrugged, unembarrassed. "Not many ladies floating around the ocean."

"And they all have tails anyways. Not good for long walks on the beach," Emma replied. Killian laughed, blue eyes twinkling with mirth.

"So why were you on there?" he asked, turning the question on her.

"Some friends of mine signed me up without telling me. They were who you were talking to."

"So glad you wanted to go out with me," Killian replied, mock pouting. Emma rolled her eyes. "Why did they sign you up? I mean, I don't want to alarm you but you're beautiful, lass. Shouldn't the men be drooling over you wherever you go?"

Emma glanced down and traced the wood grain on the table. She didn't want to talk about Neal. Not when she was enjoying dinner with an old friend. Killian reached over and touched her fingers. Emma tried not to jump at the pressure. Her shock was not out of fear but because the contact actually felt_ good_.

"What happened, Swan? Do I need to beat someone up for hurting my favourite girl?"

Emma glanced up sharply at his words. "I'm your favourite girl?" Her voice was breathy and quiet.

Killian smirked, pleased at her surprise. "Have been for a while, Swan. I didn't forget about you. When you left I tried for months to find you. Whenever I got close you were moved again. I stopped searching due to extenuating circumstances but I never stopped hoping you would be transferred back sometime. Never forgot though. So, Swan, tell me who I need to teach a lesson."

Emma shook her head, too overwhelmed by his admission to speak. Killian had looked for her? Even though she ran and left him without a proper answer? She had tried to forget about him, because it hurt too much to realize what she lost with her best friend, especially after Neal. But she never could.

Killian leaned back when the waitress brought their dinners and Emma felt herself wanting to follow his movements and close the gap again. But she didn't. Because Killian being her friend was safe. Feeling any different was not.

"So how's your brother?" Emma asked as they ate. She immediately regretted it when she saw Killian's face twist in pain and his eyes darken. What had happened to the brother Killian absolutely adored?"

"Liam was killed in a car accident the year after you left."

"I'm so sorry, Jones," Emma replied wanting to crawl under the table. Leave it to her to ruin the evening. This was why they could never be anything other than friends. She was a professional ruiner of good things.

"It's fine. It's been years." Emma knew it wasn't fine but didn't push it because he hadn't pushed the Neal issue.

Emma felt a sudden urge of guilt at Liam's death. She should have stayed in contact with Killian, been there for him during his grieving. She had only moved an hour away and her pretending he didn't exist after his confession ashamed her. If she was in fact Killain's favourite girl then she should have been there. She should have helped, she shouldn't have run for so long.

The dinner continued with safer conversation topics. Emma talked about David and Mary Margaret and Killian told her stories of his sea faring adventures, which made her worry for his safety. She didn't want to let him go back on the boat and the image of the two of them together, in her apartment, making pancakes before running out to the local market to restock flashed across her mind. Emma  
shook her head to rid herself of the image. Killian's job was no more dangerous than hers and Emma was certain that he wasn't planning breakfasts together. They had agreed to be friends, only. She needed to remember that deal, uphold her end.

Despite Emma's arguments Killian paid for dinner, even though they weren't on a date, and then walked her to her car like a proper gentleman.

"Can I have your number, Swan?" Killian asked, leaning against Emma's car door.

"Why?" The word slipped out before she could stop her lips from opening.

"So we can stay in touch," he replied casually, as if she hadn't just asked such a stupid question. Killian searched her face intently before pulling her into a hug. His arms encircled her small frame, holding on as if for dear life. "I lost you for ten years, Swan. Don't make me wait another ten to share a second beer with you." Killian spoke his desperate words into her shoulder, his breath warm against the exposed skin above her collar.

Emma gave him a quick hug back, because it was Killian, before wriggling out of his grasp to hide the shiver the warm breath sent down her spine. "Only if I pay for the next beer," Emma replied cheekily. She covertly scanned his face for a lie as she spoke. Could he really feel that strongly about her after all these years?

"Deal." She grabbed Killian's phone and typed in her number. When Killian took the phone back he snapped her picture with a grin.

"Hey!" Emma cried in surprise, flinching at the sudden flash. There was no way that picture was flattering. Killian shrugged then checked the time flashing on the screen, mischievous grin twisting into a scowl. It was after nine.

"I'm afraid I must bid you good night, Swan," Killian told her sadly, tapping the car door. "Captain has a curfew for nights before we ship out. Talk soon."

Emma got in the car as Killian walked away, a feeling of contentment sitting in her bones. She couldn't keep the smile from her lips, realizing how much she had missed him and enjoyed her night.

A feeling of displeasure from sitting in her car alone grew as Killian walked farther away. She wanted her friend to turn around and rush back to her side. She wasn't sure what she wanted if Killian was to come back but she didn't have to figure that out because he kept walking towards the docks. Emma didn't back out of her parking space until Killian rounded the corner and disappeared from  
sight.

She really hoped Killian would keep his word because she didn't want to wait ten years to see him again either.


	4. Not The Problem

Disclaimer: All Aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Mary Margaret, David and Ruby were all at Emma's house when she arrived around nine thirty, their cars blocking her driveway, forcing her to park on the curb, not that she was bothered by it. She had to laugh at them and their excitement for her, though she was a little nervous at how they would take her news. Emma let herself into the house and locked the door behind her.

"So are we having a sleepover or something?" Emma asked, finding her friends curled up on her couch together watching a movie after she hung her coat in the hall closet. Ruby grabbed her as soon as she walked within reach and tugged her down on top of the crew with an excited squeal.

"Don't stall. How was the date?" she demanded, giving Emma's shoulder a shake.

"Wasn't a date," Emma replied, wriggling her way into the space between David and Ruby. Everyone turned to Emma, shock playing across their faces.

"You didn't go?" Ruby asked, annoyance colouring her tone.

Emma shook her head and gave a nervous smile. "I went. We just agreed that it wasn't a date."

"What kind of guy wouldn't want to date you, Emma?" David asked, as if it were his own appearance he thought had been insulted. David could be such a big brother sometimes. Emma loved him for that.

Emma nudged his shoulder. "It wasn't a date because it was an old friend," Emma replied. "Jones was my best friend growing up-"

"Wait- Killian 'I-think-I-love-you-Swan' Jones was your blind date?" Ruby cut in, jaw dropping. She smacked her shoulder a few times out of excitement. Emma stiffened and turned to her.

"How do you know about Killian Jones?" she asked quietly. Emma was sure she had never mentioned her old friend to Ruby. It wasn't something she had ever told anyone. Emma wasn't big at talking about past relationships, or lack thereof in Killian's case. They only knew about Neal because Mary Margaret and David had been there and Ruby could be very persuasive when she wanted Mary Margaret to tell her something.

"Do you remember that party for Ruby two years ago?" Mary Margaret put in sheepishly. Wait, she knew too? "The one where Ruby got you really drunk?"

Emma nodded, immediately nervous. She had had a few too many tequila shots that night to remember it clearly. "What did I say?" she groaned, fearing the worst.

Mary Margaret laid a hand on her arm, placating. "Not that much, Emma. Just that you had a friend in the past, Killian, who told you he thought he might have loved you and then you were transferred. You told us how much you regretted losing touch with him, especially after how Neal treated you."

"That's it," Ruby confirmed with a shrug. "I couldn't get you to say anything more. We had no idea that's who Atlantic Captain was if you were wondering." Emma shook her head. She hadn't been wondering that because Killian would have said something if it was a reunion date her friends had planned. Killian had been just as shocked to see her as she had been him.

"So you ended up having dinner with a friend?" David summarized, scratching his jaw as he followed the story. "That's it?"

Emma shook her head and tried to explain how she felt. Killian was more than_ just_ a friend. "Jones was my best friend growing up. The first friend I ever had. We were fourteen. I lost contact with him after he told me he loved me. And there he was sitting at the restaurant waiting for me, just as shocked to find out who his date really was as I was."

"What was he like?" Mary Margaret asked, pausing the movie so Emma could continue with everyone's full attention.

"The same Jones I remember, I guess." Well, except for now he wasn't a teenager. Now he was_ most certainly_ a man.

"But smoking hot right? Please tell me he was smoking hot," Ruby practically begged. Emma blushed and Ruby cheered. "Knew it!"

"But you aren't going to date him?" David asked, confused. "I know I'm a guy so I don't really understand you three but I'm really lost with this one."

Emma shook her head, a twinge of regret twisting her stomach for a moment. "We agreed to stay friends. We missed each other too much to risk ruining something. I ran out on him ten years ago because he scared me. Now I just want to earn his friendship back."

She waited, braced for an argument that didn't come. Ruby slung her arm around Emma and gave her a little squeeze. "We're so glad you found each other again, Emma. It wasn't what we had in mind but if being Killian's friend makes you happy then that's all we ever wanted."

Emma squeezed her back. "Thank you. It was you two who arranged it. I'm glad you forced me to go."

"Remember that next time we try to make you do something." Ruby replied, shoving her arm.

Emma rolled her eyes and reached over, pressing play on the remote in Mary Margaret's hand. "So are we actually having a sleepover?" she asked as the movie started rolling again.

"Absolutely," Ruby answered, snuggling farther into the sofa cushions. "Mary Margaret and David already claimed your bed. Enjoy the couch, Emma."

Emma groaned as Ruby laughed. "You better keep it PG, David," Emma warned. "Remember, I own a gun."

"Duly noted," David replied, arms raised in surrender.

With a grin Emma settled down with her friends to finish the movie. Who would have ever thought that the girl Emma had been as a child, lost, shuffled from home to home, known only as the angry foster kid at every school she attended, would be surrounded by loving friends and in her own home years later. As Emma curled against David's warm side she realized that only one thing would make their movie night and sleepover better- Killian.

Emma was at work on Monday when her phone went off, buzzing several times against the wood desktop. She flipped it over and scanned the text. It was a number she didn't recognize.

REMEMBER THOSE COOKIES WE MADE TOGETHER ONCE? -JONES

Emma couldn't help but grin as she entered the new contact under Jones. Finally he was texting her. She had been beginning to worry that he didn't feel as strongly about their friendship now that the reunion bliss had worn off, not that she would admit that. YOU RUINED THEM she quickly typed back.

The two of them had been trying to make cookies for a school bake sale in Killian's kitchen. Killian had forgotten the sugar and they turned into a weird chalky mess that were promptly thrown out. Emma tried to convince herself that not having something for the sale was fine because no one had been expecting foster kid Emma to bring any, a fact which both of them were trying to rectify. Emma had been devastated. Killian surprised her the next day by putting in an entry for Emma. After a little arm twisting he admitted that he made Liam go buy a plate of cookies at a local bakery which Killian switched to his own tin plate and brought in with Emma's name taped to the top.

I REFUSE TO TAKE ALL THE BLAME, SWAN.

TOO BAD. WHO FORGETS SUGAR? WHAT MADE YOU THINK OF THEM?

IT'S MY WEEK TO COOK.

DON'T MAKE COOKIES THEN IF YOU WANT TO MAKE ANY FRIENDS. Emma typed back, grinning at the screen.

I'VE GOTTEN BETTER SINCE THEN... AND NOT JUST AT BAKING. The text came in two parts. Heat curled in Emma's stomach at the implication of his words in the second one. She didn't remember that aspect of his personality from before. Or that kind of bodily reaction to Killian's words.

Emma's radio went off on her desk, the operator calling in a disturbance by the high school, removing the need for Emma to respond to his heated comment. She answered the order, David's agreement that they were on it coming through a moment later.

GOT TO GO. DUTY CALLS.

YOU AT WORK? was his quick response.

YEAH. JUST GOT A CALL FOR THE HIGH SCHOOL. Emma answered as she stood, typing  
quickly with her thumb while her other hand adjusted the gun holster at her belt.

BE CAREFUL, SWAN. DON'T WANT MY FAVOURITE GIRL TO GET HURT. The heat she had felt before turned into an all over bodily warmth.

DON'T WORRY ABOUT ME, JONES. I'M A PROFESSIONAL. Emma slipped her phone into her pocket and hurried to the parking lot.

Emma slipped into the passenger seat of the police car as David started he engine. He radioed that they were on their way and started for the school. They were enroute when David turned to her.

"What's got you so happy?"

Emma glanced over, confused. "What do you mean?" She wasn't pleased to have to go work out an issue at the school if that was what he thought.

"When you came out the door you were grinning. Emma Swan doesn't grin, especially not at work. So what happened?"

Emma groaned. Had she really been running around the station looking like a fool? "Nothing," she answered quickly.

"Did Jones call?" David asked, looking towards her as they pulled into the school parking lot.

"Texted," Emma admitted, unlocking her door and getting out.

"But you're_ just_ friends," David drawled, slightly questioning, slightly sarcastic.

Emma scowled at him and started towards the school. "Shut up."

The next time Emma talked to Killian was on Wednesday when he texted her after she had gotten off work at nine. Emma had been sitting on the couch, a bowl of pasta balanced on her lap, while she flipped through various television channels.

NEXT TIME I AGREE TO SCRUB THE DECK MAKE SURE IT'S NOT WHILE WE ARE FISHING THE MUD FLATS.

HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DO THAT, JONES? Emma replied, grinning to herself.

YOU CALL MY CAPTAIN AND TELL HIM IT'S POLICE ORDERS.

DON'T BE LAZY.

ONE OF MY BEST FRIENDS IS A COP. DOESN'T THAT COME WITH PERKS?

Emma balked at the tiny type crossing the screen. Killian was already calling her one of his_ best_ friends? After meeting for just one night after ten years apart and exchanging only a few texts? The suddenness of the gesture caused panic to rise in Emma. She knew she would disappoint Killian eventually if he was already this attached. Disappointing people was what she did. It was all Neal could say that final night. She didn't want to have Killian end their relationship like that too.

DID THAT FREAK YOU OUT? Killian's text lit up the darkened screen when she didn't respond. Well at least he still understood Emma's feelings around relationships, platonic or otherwise. Of course Killian only knew the issues fourteen year old Emma had had. Twenty four year old Emma was a completely  
different ballgame.

SORRY, SWAN

DON'T APOLOGIZE, Emma finally answered when she was able to convince her fingers to type again. THEY'RE MY ISSUES NOT YOURS.

IT'S NOT AN ISSUE, SWAN.

THAT'S DEBATABLE. ASK MY EX. Emma froze after she hit send, realizing what she had added. She hadn't planned to mention Neal ever to Killian, and her she was throwing the bastard into a_ text_ conversation? Emma wished she could take back the words but Killian's answer buzzed against her leg before she could send another text to deflect the impact of her last message.

DO I HAVE TO SWIM TO SHORE TO CONVINCE YOU THAT YOU ARE NOT THE PROBLEM?

I WON'T LET YOU IN IF YOU DO. THE WATER WILL RUIN THE FLOORING, Emma replied in an attempt to inject some levity into the situation.

FINE THEN. I WILL TEXT YOU 'YOU ARE NOT THE PROBLEM' UNTIL YOU BELIEVE ME. Emma rolled her eyes and set her phone down, finishing her pasta. While she did she counted the number of times her phone buzzed. Twenty buzzes. Emma set down her empty dish on a side table and looked over the messages Killian had sent. Each one said the same thing; YOU ARE NOT THE PROBLEM.

HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND, JONES? she typed back, processing what he'd said.

HOW ABOUT YOU TRY SOMETHING NEW AND TRUST ME, LOVE?

Emma took a deep breath. Killian was determined for her to accept his messages. That was the Killian she knew, kind and caring and determined to make sure Emma knew that she was more than her foster system case file. She knew he would have said the exact same things ten years ago too if Emma had implied her intimacy and trust issues were her own problems, rather than the result of all the people who had treated her badly. If Killian still felt that strongly about her ten years on maybe he was right? At least partially.

I AM NOT THE PROBLEM, Emma typed back, trying to engrain the message into her brain. The problem was all the shitty people she had had to deal with over her short lifetime.

GOOD. I REALLY DIDN'T WANT TO HAVE TO EXPLAIN TO MY CAPTAIN WHY I WAS JUMPING OVERBOARD.

YOU ARE RIDICULOUS.

YOUR OPINION. NOT MINE. GOT TO GO, SWAN, CAPTAIN IS ABOUT TO TRAWL AGAIN.

AT NIGHT? She didn't want their conversation to end, as uncomfortable as it had been for her.

WE HAVE THIS MODERN TECHNOLOGY CALLED DECK LIGHTS, SWAN. THE FISH DON'T HAVE WATCHES OR GO TO BED EARLY. WE FISH WHEN CAPTAIN SAYS WE FISH. REMEMBER WHAT I TOLD YOU.

BYE, JONES, Emma answered setting down her phone and wetting her bottom lip as she thought over their conversation. She quickly picked the phone back up again and typed out another quick text. BE CAREFUL.

DON'T WORRY ABOUT ME, SWAN. I'M A PROFESSIONAL. The familiarity of the words made Emma smile. She picked up her empty dinner bowl and made her way to the sink to wash up before getting ready for bed.


	5. Pizza

_A/N:_ The boat mentioned in this chapter is an actual boat. It was the trawler my father worked on before the cod industry shut down. I took some artistic liberty- the boat was a cod trawler that worked off Greenland and a haddock trawler like I am picturing would probably be up near Brown's Bank, Nova Scotia, but essentially it is as real to life as I could make it and still have it fit the story. Enjoy and thank you for the lovely reviews!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Emma's phone was buzzing somewhere under the mountain of blankets she'd built over herself. She rooted around for the little machine, eyes still closed and head still buried, thumping her hands against the cotton sheets as she searched. If this was work calling her to cover another shift she wasn't answering. They could call Graham. He was the boss and he was off all weekend. Let him pick up the slack.

Emma had been sleeping off a long midnight to three double shift which involved chasing some idiot halfway across town on foot after he decided that it would be funny to try and steal some money off the table of a local bakery just after it opened._ While Emma and David were there picking up breakfast._ The guy had been faster than she'd expected when she took off on foot after him and she was winded by the time she rugby tackled him to the ground and cuffed him. Emma's sore legs had been very glad when David pulled up in their police car to take the robber to the station before she had to drag him all the way back to the shop.

"Emma Swan," she answered groggily when she located the phone and saw that it wasn't the station's number. She wriggled out from under the sheets, gulping cool air to try and wake herself up.

"You okay there, Swan?" Killian's voice drifted over the line, concerned at how raspy she sounded. Killian's lilting words did more to wake her up than a caffeine IV drip ever could.

Emma coughed to clear her throat and raked a hand over her eyes. "Yeah, sorry, I fell asleep after work. What's up?" Killian had never once called her since their reunion two weeks prior. He always texted. The fact that she was speaking to him directly caught her attention and made her pulse quicken.

"I was wondering if you could do me a favour?" The sounds of waves crashing echoed in the background of the call, a gull crying out from somewhere above Killian. Emma pursed her lips at the keening sound. It was Friday. Killian was supposed to be on shore for the weekend, not still out working.

"Sure, Jones," Emma answered, curious as to what she could do for him if he was still out on the boat.

"My friend bailed on picking me up at the docks because his daughter is sick. Would you mind coming and getting me?"

Emma pushed herself up and slipped into her shoes. A flare of excitement at the prospect of seeing Killian rushed through her. "Sure, when do you get in?" Emma asked, trying to keep her voice from betraying her eagerness.

"I'm in now." Emma could practically hear Killian cringe at the last minute nature of his request.

"Way to give me warning, Jones," she mumbled without thinking, moving to find her car keys.

"You don't have to come if you don't want to, Swan. I can walk." His immediate answer made Emma feel a bit guilty at her earlier words. She hadn't meant what she said. The statement was just a knee jerk reaction to people who didn't really care about her. She wasn't used to people being so concerned about what_ she_ wanted to do instead of what worked for them. Emma needed to remember that Killian was different.

"Don't be ridiculous," she quickly replied. "I'm already in my car." Emma set the phone on her knee while she started the engine so Killian could hear the rumble and know she was telling the truth. She brought the phone back up to her ear. "See you soon, Jones." Emma hung up and started for the dock.

The dock was busy when she reached it, Killian's boat- The Northern Osprey- having just gotten in and now in the process of unloading its catch. The Northern Osprey was a large blue and white painted metal trawler. Large mechanical doors were located at the stern which opened up to extend the fishing nets, rigged with pulleys and hydraulic haulers, when it was time to trawl. Men hurried across the deck as they worked to empty the hold of the catch which looked to Emma to be haddock or a similar type of ground fish. Water from the melting ice in the hold poured out of a hole in the bow of the boat, foam riling up in the water as the flow hit from its great height. Gulls swooped greedily towards the open hold doors, looking for a snack, only to glide upwards again when the sailors took angry swings at them. Some men were on the dock, still wearing worn work clothing but changed from their oil gear, as they adjusted the bow and stern lines for the boat, making sure they would stay secure over the weekend.

Emma scanned the dock for Killian, licking her bottom lip unconsciously when she noticed him moving up the dock, away from the boat, backpack slung over one shoulder. Killian scanned the area for Emma's car and heading straight for it when he noticed her. Emma hoped her position in her car would hide her staring as she watched him near her, an easy swagger to his movements. Killian wore a heavy flannel work coat over a fitted black Henley and worn jeans tucked into his old black boots. The silver necklace he wore hit against his chest every time he took a step, swinging freely and shining like a beacon in the setting sun. His hair was tucked into a bright orange knitted hat, pulled low on the back of his head so it flopped slightly. There was something different about him but Emma couldn't figure out what it was immediately.

When he slid into the seat of Emma's car with a smile she realized that two weeks ago he had had no facial hair. At the restaurant Killian was clean shaven. Now several days' worth of stubble covered his chin, giving him a rugged look that Emma couldn't help but enjoy. Killian looked good clean shaven but given the option Emma would rather he stay a little scruffy. She turned back to the windshield to stop herself from staring before he noticed.

"You forget your razor on land?" Emma asked as she concentrated on driving away from the dock without hitting any of the sailors who were carrying on as they left the boat, reveling in the idea of being on land for several days with no curfew, free to do as they wished. She dodged one pair that was having some sort of wrestling match, half on the road shoulder, half on the pavement, before turning away from the docks and towards the center of town.

"How do you know the scruff isn't an actual thing?" Killian asked as he tossed his bag into the backseat. Emma glanced at him, eyebrow raised as she waited for him to elaborate. Killian gave her a baleful grin. "I shaved for the date to try and impress the mysterious girl I was meeting. Didn't want to look like some sort of ship rat the first time she saw me."

"So you aren't trying to impress me anymore?" Emma forced her tone to be light, to hide the hurt she felt at the idea that she wasn't worth his time or the work it would take to impress her by shaving. She had never been worth anyone's extra effort. She was surprised she still got upset by that.

Emma bit down on her cheek until the pain focused her because she was the one who wanted to be friends. Friends didn't need to look nice for each other. Any picture of the weekend breakfasts Emma's friends had at her place would prove that.

"I'm always trying to impress you, Swan," Killian answered easily, smirk firmly in place, missing Emma's whirling thoughts. Emma made a show of rolling her eyes. She knew he was kidding but appreciated the gesture nevertheless.

"Where to?" Emma asked to move the conversation along. She was just driving, not sure where Killian lived or wanted to be dropped off.

"I think I have beer in the fridge at home. You want to stop by for a bit?"

"Thought I was supposed to buy the next beer," Emma replied, grinning at him.

Killian shrugged and pointed for her to turn up a small side road that branched off the main street. It was a residential street with only a few houses, none of which belonging to her other friends, so it wasn't one that Emma frequented. Killian instructed her to pull into the driveway of a large house that had been converted into apartments. The house was an old Victorian monstrosity with three floors and a large wrap around deck. It was painted a light sage green with darker green trim, the paint chipping off on the window sills from the bad weather the spring and summer had brought to Storybrooke. It was a nice place, not exactly what she had expected Killian to live in, but she guessed he didn't much care what his place looked like when he was rarely there.

"How about I order pizza and you get that?" Killian suggested as Emma parked.

"Only if I can pick the toppings," Emma shot back, glad she'd thought to bring her wallet with her.

"So demanding, lass. I like it." Killian raised a brow as he grabbed his backpack from the backseat and made for the front door.

Emma ignored the insinuation of his words and got out. "Wait until you see what I order before you decide that."

"As long as it's not anchovies," Killian laughed, opening the door and gesturing for Emma to enter. He led her up a wooden staircase to the top floor, a bright blue door waiting at the top of the staircase. The steps practically ended without any landing, as if the apartment wall had been erected without any remodelling to create a proper apartment entrance.

Emma mock pouted as she shed her coat and shoes by the door. "Pepperoni and cheese, please, Jones."

"Ah, the classics. I'm glad I can rely on your sophisticated palate." Emma wondered into the living room and sat herself down on a plain brown cloth couch while Killian called for a pizza.

Killian's apartment was cold from being left empty for several weeks but it wasn't musty considering his apartment was part of such an old house. The room felt clean, like a lab, with white walls and the basic necessities of a house- kitchen table, several spare chairs and a television mounted on the far wall- were all that it held. Actually, instead of a lab, the apartment felt like a place Emma would live in if Mary Margaret hadn't taken over the decorating of her bungalow. Two closed doors hinted at other areas of the apartment, branching off the large main room that served as both the living room and kitchen. Emma assumed led to a bathroom and a bedroom though the nondescript nature of the white doors offered no further clues as to which was which.

After hanging up the phone Killian threw himself down on the couch beside Emma, putting his feet up on the wooden coffee table in front of them. Killian had already shucked off his work jacket and hat, the removal of said item leaving his hair rumpled and disorganized. That made him look younger, more like the Killian she remembered from middle school. A pang of regret flashed through her for missing out on so much of Killian's life just because she was scared. He had grown up and she wasn't sure how she felt about that. About him. Emma leaned further back into the sofa, farther away from Killian.

_Get it together, Emma. Think about pizza. Not about how Killian's appearance makes your insides clench with heat._ Emma bit into her lip, concentrating on her thoughts and _not_ on Killian._ Think about Neal._ A wave of pain shot through her at the memory of Neal's back as he slammed the door hard enough to chip the frame. She shut the thoughts down, feeling numb._ There. No more feelings._

Killian touched Emma's arm when he realized she wasn't listening to him. Emma jumped and looked over at him. "What?"

"Are you okay?" Killian asked softly motioning to Emma's position. She glanced down at herself and realized she'd pushed herself so far into the sofa that she was sitting between two cushions.

"Yeah, no worries, Jones," Emma said quickly, extracting herself from the little cave she'd unknowingly dug.

"You know I don't believe you," Killian said turning to face her, concern twisting his face. "What happened to you, Swan?"

Emma made to get up and leave. She didn't want to talk about Neal. "Nothing." Killian caught her hand and tried to keep her against the sofa but Emma's need to run was growing too strong. She needed out. Between Killian's proximity and Neal's damage it was all too much. "I have to go. I'll leave a twenty on the counter for the pizza."

Emma turned and ran for the door before the tears could start. She was halfway down the stairs to her car when Killian caught her. Just like last time he held her fast.

"Swan, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have pushed. Please don't go. I wanted to see you, have some fun and I ruined it." Killian's tone was full of disappointment and exasperation, the disappointment directed towards himself and the exasperation at her.

"You didn't ruin it. I just- I have to go." Emma stepped down the stairs again. Killian followed her, still not letting go.

"Please, Emma? I'm only around for this weekend before I'm gone for another two weeks." She knew Killian wouldn't beg for her to stay but she recognized the glint of loneliness in his eyes, the long dealt with abandonment. Emma was sure her eyes showed the same fears. Killian didn't want to be alone any more than Emma did when she was actually being honest with herself._ Which she wasn't being._

"I'm sorry, Jones," Emma said thickly, her voice catching with her need to get out and crawl into bed and find oblivion for a while. The longer she stuck around the more it would hurt Killian.

"You have to stop running from me Emma. I'm not going to hurt you." Killian stopped and sighed. "Look, if I let you go will you please at least stop by before I leave Sunday night? All I'm asking for is a hello, I'm alive."

Killian let go of her wrist and Emma let herself have a few deep breaths to calm her racing heart. She blinked hard to dry the tears that had threatened to escape her conflicted body. She wanted to run but she didn't want to leave Killian. Maybe a bit of space was all she needed to clear her head.

"Tomorrow morning at eleven. My friends, we all have brunch at my place. You can come if you want."

Killian smiled; pleased she was letting him in again. Emma running out on him didn't even seem to bother him that much now that he knew she wasn't leaving for good. He understood that Emma needed her space, if only for a night. What had she ever done to deserve a friend like Killian? "Anything I need to bring?"

"Your forgiveness for a messed up old friend?" Emma asked quietly, glancing down at her feet.

Killian bent forward quickly and kissed her forehead. "Already granted. I'll bring donuts instead." Before Emma could react Killian turned and hurried back up to his apartment.

Emma lingered on the stairs stunned and alone until the pizza showed up. She quickly paid for it, realizing she'd forgotten to leave money and left while the delivery man continued up the stairs to Killian's apartment. It was still in a dazed state that she stumbled into her own place a little while later and even when she went to sleep that night she could still feel the warm pressure of Killian's lips against her hairline.


	6. Splitting Bear Claws

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Ruby was the first to arrive at Emma's place for brunch, marching in after unlocking the door with her own key. She tossed a bag of pineapple and grapes onto the counter and went for the plates without a word. They were so comfortable with each other that it was commonplace for Emma to arrive home from work and find Ruby watching TV or stretched out on her floor doing yoga because she insisted that her apartment just_ wasn't_ big enough for a proper workout. Neither needed words. Emma sat on the counter next to the percolating coffee machine and watched as she moved, cutting the fruit with restaurant precision. Once finished, Ruby turned to her, popping a chunk of pineapple into her mouth.

"Morning, Sunshine," she grinned moving towards the coffee maker. She stopped mid reach for a mug and studied Emma's face. "What's got you looking like you're about to blow a gasket?" Emma reached into the cupboard handed Ruby a mug before responding.

"I might have invited someone to brunch," Emma said worrying at her bottom lip. What if her friends didn't like Killian? What if Killian didn't like them? What if seeing Emma with the friends that she hadn't run from turned him off? Made him feel bad? The more she thought about all that could go wrong the more worried she became.

"As in?" Ruby asked, raising a brow and sipping her coffee.

"Jones." Emma tried to play it off by shrugging casually.

Ruby choked on her coffee, nearly spitting it all over Emma. After a few coughs she darted closer, grinning widely as she set the mug on the counter. "You can't be serious? Killian Jones is coming to brunch?" Her voice grew louder with each word.

"He said he would bring donuts."

"Ah! This is so exciting, Emma. I'm so happy for you." Ruby was practically jumping up and down in her excitement, her voice a shrill ring. Emma cringed, wishing she would just calm down. Why was she happy for her? Ruby hadn't gotten excited the few times Emma had invited Graham over. Killian coming wasn't a big deal.

"What's going on?" Mary Margaret asked, having arrived mid commotion with David. She set down a warming dish filled with scrambled eggs and bacon and stood in front of Emma, hands on her hips.

"Emma invited Killian to breakfast," Ruby squealed. David's jaw dropped and Mary Margaret grinned widely._ What was the big deal?_ Emma didn't get it. This was a friend brunch so she had invited a friend- though she was beginning to regret it now. It's not like she admitted that she was going to marry the guy. Wait? Did she just think about_ marrying_ Killian. Emma definitely needed to go back to bed.

Before Mary Margaret could respond or Emma could go bury herself under the covers of her bed there was a knock on the front door. Everyone froze, staring at Emma. There was only one person the knock could be. She shut her eyes, took a deep breath then slid off the counter.

Emma swung the front door open, trying not to freak out. She felt herself relax immediately when she saw Killian smirking at her, eyebrow raised. The spot on her forehead warmed under his ice blue gaze. Killian wore dark jeans and a black t-shirt, a sweater tucked under his arm, casual but still handsome enough to make Emma squirm uncomfortably. His other arm was busy balancing a box of donuts from a local bakery.

"Morning, Swan."

"Hey," Emma replied, cursing her breathless voice._ Get it together, Emma. This is just brunch._

"You going to let me in or make me stand out here the whole time?" Killian asked, raising his brow further, clearly entertained by Emma's behaviour.

"Oh, right," Emma replied, flustered. She moved from her position in the middle of the doorway, feeling her cheeks heat. Before she could make any bigger of a fool out of herself she turned and walked into the kitchen, hoping Killian would know to follow.

A chorus of hellos greeted Killian when he walked in moments after Emma. Her friends were all grinning goofily as they looked between Emma and Killian, who had moved to stand beside her. Ruby appraised Killian, looking him up and down. "He is hot," she said in a stage whisper, leaning towards Emma. Emma resisted the urge to run and instead did her duty as hostess.

"Everyone, this is Killian Jones. Jones, these are my friends, Ruby, Mary Margaret and her husband David."

"And her partner," David put in moving the shake Killian's hand. Killian shifted his sweater so he was able to meet David with a firm grasp. David was looking him over as well, but while Ruby had been appreciating his good looks, David seemed to be checking for something else. Big brother mode had clearly been engaged as he squeezed Killian's hand tightly, waiting to see if Killian would return the pressure. He did. David let go with a satisfied nod.

"So you keep Swan safe?" Killian asked as he handed the box of donuts to Mary Margaret.

The group scoffed at his question. "Couldn't if I tried. No one saves Emma, but Emma." Emma felt her cheeks burn as Killian glanced back at her, eyes worried. She tried for a nonchalant shrug but ended up looking more like she was being given an electric shock.

"Brunch, anyone?" Emma called loudly, moving towards the table before anyone could answer. She sat down at her regular spot and Killian chose the seat next to her. Emma tried not to groan at his choice. The groan wasn't exactly about where he chose to sit though, Emma didn't mind his proximity. What she minded was the pointed glances her other friends were exchanging as Killian settled into his chair.

"So, Killian, you know Emma from school?" Mary Margaret started, her tone one of small talk, though Emma knew it was curiosity at this person from Emma's past that drove the questioning.

"Yeah, we were fourteen," Killian answered, scooping some eggs onto his plate. Emma reached into the box of donuts and pulled out a bear claw.

"And you had feelings for her?" Ruby asked, leaning forwards._ Well that was subtle._

Emma reached over and smacked her. "Stop it, Ruby." Ruby gave her an injured look. "Don't bother him."

Killian chuckled. "No bother, Swan." He turned back to Ruby. "Aye, I did."

"And now?"

Killian glanced at Emma. Emma was caught between wanting to know the answer and not. She settled on not. Much safer that way.

"How about you tell them about your job, Jones," she cut in quickly. Killian looked over her face, studying her reaction. He gave a quick nod of understanding and began to talk about his life on The Northern Osprey.

Emma steered the conversation away from herself for the rest of the morning. Killian seemed content to talk about his adventures and the others were happy enough to listen. They were fascinated by this old friend of Emma's, someone who had known her during her foster system days. She knew they were burning to ask him about her back then but they respectfully didn't, understanding that things would not be good afterwards.

Killian was the last to leave after brunch ended, insisting that he help Emma clean up. She had argued that she was fine- she had a dishwasher after all- but he wouldn't listen. Which was how Emma found herself sitting at the now clean table, Killian across from her.

"You're friends are nice," Killian started.

"I'm sorry if they made you uncomfortable."

"I know they made_ you_ uncomfortable," Killian answered pointedly. He was right. Emma had spent the whole brunch fearing that something about the abuse she suffered as a teenager would come up, because Killian knew about that, had seen it. And that topic would lead to Neal.

"There's a lot they don't know." Emma ducked her head and used her nail to scrape at a bit of donut glaze stuck on the table top.

"Why are you hiding it from them? You have nothing to be ashamed of," Killian said gently.

Emma shook her head. "Look, they already feel bad enough for me because of Ne-" she froze, hand clapping over her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut, unwilling to look at Killian and see the worried look she knew he was giving her.

"I take it this Ne- fellow is what happened to you?"

"I don't want to talk about it, Jones. Not now."

"Not ever, right?" His tone was hurt. Killian wanted Emma to trust him and she wouldn't even give him the slightest bit of insight on why she was more protected, more cautious, angrier and more scared than when she was fourteen and at the mercy of a bad placement.

Emma glanced up at him and swallowed thickly. "I don't want to talk about Neal, Jones. But know, I'm not doing it to hurt you."

Killian nodded. "Thank you for telling me his name at least."

"I wish I could tell you more." The words tumbled from Emma's lips before she could stop them. But they were the truth. She wanted to tell Killian about Neal in a way because she knew he would listen, understand. Killian knew about her past, could understand why she felt she deserved Neal in a way that Mary Margaret never could. But she wasn't ready to tell him yet. She shot a look at Killian to measure his reaction to her confession. A small smile pulled up the corners of his lips. Emma let out a sigh of relief.

"Maybe someday," he coaxed gently.

"Maybe," Emma echoed, thoughts whirling, threatening to open up to memories of her ex.

"Until then," Killian said quickly, his tone lightening, sensing Emma needed a distraction. "Shall we split the last bear claw?"

Emma grinned at him, thankful. "I cut, you pick?" she suggested, reaching back and grabbing a knife off the counter. She sliced the bear claw as evenly as she could, pushing both halves towards Killian.

"So fair," he laughed, glancing at the halves. He grabbed one, taking a bite of it.

"That's just 'cause I know you'd pick the bigger half if I didn't and I'd be shorted donut." Emma sent him a grin as she pulled her own donut apart, popping a chunk into her mouth.

"Should I be offended?"

Emma shrugged easily. She liked these kinds of exchanges better. "It's a known fact you eat more than me."

"I think you're going to have to quote some credible sources there, Miss. I-ate-two-bear-claws-with-breakfast-and-now-I'm-worried-about-getting-shorted-a-third."

Emma reached over and smacked his arm. Killian's hand shot up, trapping her against his skin. He was warm and firm under her hand, the soft downy hair on his arm tickling her fingertips. Neither withdrew after the contact, hands still resting on top of one another on his arm, as if neither could believe they had gotten themselves into such a situation. Killian's thumb moved, stroking a long path across the back of Emma's hand and back. She suppressed a shudder along with the urge to flip her hand over and intertwine their fingers.

Emma glanced up from their hands. Killian was watching her carefully, worrying slightly at his bottom lip. The desire to move didn't seem to be happening to him either. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity but was probably less than a minute, he drew a shaky breath before moving his hand, grabbing the donut half that had fallen from Emma's fingers, unnoticed, and shoving it in his mouth.

Emma pulled back and rolled her eyes, relieved that he had made the move, saving her from having to. Because she wasn't sure she would have.

"You're such a hog," she shot at him.

Killian stood, checking his watch. "But at least I'm not a hungry one." His eyelid flashed in a quick wink. "I have to go meet Robin. Maybe I'll see you again this weekend?"

Emma shrugged, as casually as she could. She didn't want him to go. "You know where to find me."

"That I do, lass. Thanks for the breakfast."

"Thanks for the donuts," Emma replied, watching him walk out of the kitchen.

She set her head against the table after the front door shut with a thud, plunging her house into silence. Emma couldn't help but feel that door shutting was the loneliest sound she'd heard in a while.


	7. Movie Marathon

_A/N:_ Thank you all for such lovely reviews! I'm so pleased that you are enjoying the story!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators. I hold no ownership over anything related to Harry Potter either.

CAN'T STOP BY TODAY, SORRY. GOT CALLED OUT EARLY TO THE LAB. That was the message Emma got from Killian Sunday morning. He was going to be spending the next week and a half at the university in Boston, compiling data with his supervisor. Emma had assumed that he was going back out to sea for two weeks but was relieved to find out she'd been wrong. She liked knowing he was safe on dry land.

And that was the last she'd heard of him for four days. Emma didn't think much of it. It wasn't as if they had left on bad terms. Killian was just busy. Emma didn't know what he did in that fish lab of his. Maybe he was up to his elbows in fish scales. If he was, no wonder he didn't want to touch his phone. Emma could have messaged him herself, she knew that, but she wasn't sure what to say. Memories of his hand and his kiss still bounced through her head uncomfortably, unsure how to be properly addressed.

Emma pulled into her driveway, shut off her car and got out, the darkness of the driveway lit dimly by her fading headlights. Emma started up the little stone pathway, eager to get in and changed out of her police uniform. Her comfy black leggings were calling her name after such a long shift.

Emma was a few feet from the door when she caught sight of a figure slumped down on her front step, head in his hands. The edge of the pool of car light just brushed him, allowing Emma to see who it was. Killian. His plaid work coat was pulled on over a white button up to keep out the early fall chill but he was still shaking. She glanced around, noticing a small four door car parked near the edge of her lawn. She had assumed that was a guest of one of her neighbours but now she knew it was Killian's.

Emma closed the gap between them in two strides and squatted down in front of him. She wished she could see his face, see his eyes. He was scaring her. Killian didn't even seem to notice Emma or if he did he didn't bother responding to her movements.

"Jones? What's up?" Emma asked quietly, scooting herself a little closer.

"I just needed somewhere to go." He didn't raise his head and his voice was thick. Emma's heart pounded in her chest.

"Why? I thought you were supposed to be in Boston."

"I was. So was_ she._ She looked right through me." Killian's voice cracked, along with Emma's heart. She wanted to go arrest whoever had done this to her friend. She reached forwards and grabbed his arms, hauling him up.

"Come on, Jones, I've got some hot chocolate inside."

"I'd rather rum," he muttered, leaning against Emma.

"Not in your state," she replied, leading him inside and to her sofa. She put him down on the cushions and sat next to him. He was awfully pale. His eyes weren't red so he hadn't been crying. He seemed to be in a state of shock instead. "What happened, Jones?"

"Milah was there." His voice was hollow, his face expressionless. The shaking hadn't stopped despite the room being warm. It was as if he was freezing from the inside. Emma reached behind him and pulled down the fleece throw, securing it around his shoulders like a cape.

"Who's Milah, Jones?"

"My ex." He freed one of his arms from under the blanket and held it up. Tattooed across his skin was a heart with a dagger through it. "She saw me and pretended I wasn't there. As if we never had anything." Killian looked up at her then. "I loved her, Swan. I gave her everything and she wouldn't risk anything for me."

Emma's heart thumped at his words. He loved this Milah woman? Obviously he still had feelings for her or he wouldn't be on Emma's couch. Did this mean that Emma wasn't really worth anything romantically to him? That they really were just friends? Emma pushed the thoughts away and shifted to sit beside him._ Now was not the time._

"I think you better explain this." Killian nodded and shifted so he was leaning against her. Emma moved her arm around him, holding his shoulder and keeping him tight against her. Killian needed the contact more than she needed to feel secure.

"I met Milah at university. She was a biology professor. It started of casual- a romp, you know?" Killian sighed, a long suffering sigh. "But I fell in love with her. It was the first time I was happy since Liam died, and you left." Killian turned to her, scanning her face from his position against her. Emma's heart broke a little bit more. How could she have been so selfish all those years ago?

"I'm sorry, Jones." Emma hadn't realized she'd meant so much to him. She hadn't believed his words.

"You didn't know." Killian tried to give her a smile but it was so sad and small that it was worse than tears. Emma leaned around him and adjusted the blanket so she wouldn't have to see it anymore, to stop the wetness from welling up in her own eyes. "Anyways, she cut us off because she got tenure. Said I was a risk to her future. That I was just a distraction while she finished her stint as an associate professor. It didn't matter that I was graduating in less than a year and we could be together openly then. She cut me out of her life without a second thought. I didn't see her again until today when she showed up to meet with my supervisor. He introduced me to her, not realizing we already knew each other. She didn't even address me, just asked to start the meeting and walked away. So I left."

"And came here."

"I'm sorry, Swan. I didn't know where else to go. I didn't want to be alone."

"You have nothing to be sorry about, Jones. That's why I'm here. You're going to be okay, Jones." She gave his shoulders a squeeze before removing her arm. "I'm going to go get changed and make some hot chocolate for us. I'll be right back."

Emma hurried into her bedroom, mind whirling. She had been Killian's choice source of comfort when he was upset? She, Emma Swan, of all people? The one who was terrified of emotions and he had come freely to her, visibly shaken about a relationship of his past? Did he really trust her that much; believe that she would be able to offer him comfort when she didn't even know how to comfort herself in situations like these? Emma didn't understand what he saw in her?

Emma took off her uniform and pulled on black leggings and a chunky white cable knit sweater, long enough to cover her bum. She pulled her hair out of its ponytail and massaged her sore scalp as she moved back down the hall to the kitchen. All was quiet in the living room as she warmed the milk and powder mixture.

A familiar theme song rang through the house as she dug through the fridge for whip cream. Emma froze, listening to the tune. What was Killian doing? Emma abandoned her search, grabbed the whip cream-less mugs and hurried into the living room.

Killian was squatted in front of the DVD player, adjusting the volume, as the opening credits of the first_ Harry Potter_ movie started playing. Sitting beside him was a stack of the other movies in the series that he had dug off the shelf above the player. He turned to Emma when he heard her steps.

"Remember this?" he asked standing and moving closer. Emma nodded, slightly stunned. She had watched this movie with Killian and Liam ages ago. Liam had treated them both to movie tickets. It was the first time Emma had ever been to a movie theatre. Emma had liked Liam. She still hadn't really processed that he was gone. "I was thinking that we could watch them all, since we only got to see the first one before."

"Them all? Tonight?" Emma asked, incredulous. She couldn't deny that she had thought about Killian and watching the movies with him every time a new one came out. The idea of watching them all with him now seemed too good to resist, as preposterous as the proposition sounded.

Killian shrugged. "I've got time." He moved back to the sofa and beckoned Emma closer. Emma did as she was asked and settled next to him, several inches of space between their legs. Emma could feel the distance. Every millimeter of it. Instead of closing the gap she handed Killian his mug of hot chocolate.

Neither spoke while they drank their hot chocolates. They watched the first movie, then the second, the distance still between them. The tension over the space separating them dissipated somewhat as they relaxed, just pleased to be in each other's company, but neither ready to make a move to change their positions. When the third movie started to roll Emma felt her eyes growing heavier and she sunk further into the sofa. She wasn't going to make the fourth, no matter how much she wanted to. It was to the sounds of Stan Shunpike and the Night Bus that she fell asleep.

When Emma started to regain consciousness the next morning she realized she was still on the sofa, the fleece throw tucked around her legs like a cocoon and that the pillow she was using to support her head wasn't actually a pillow. It was Killian's lap.

Emma turned her head slowly towards Killian so as not to alert him to her being up while she tried not to panic. He was asleep, slumped down on the arm of the sofa, his hand resting on Emma's shoulder as if he'd been playing with her hair before succumbing to his own exhaustion. He snored lightly, a small smile playing on his lips. Emma found that a relief after the state she had found him in the night before. The relief caused her panicked feeling to ebb away.

Despite the situation Emma didn't really want to move, to end whatever was happening between them. Killian was warm, and soft and Emma felt safe. Which was perhaps the most surprising aspect of it all. She shut her eyes and drifted back to sleep.

Killian's fidgeting as he roused was what woke her up next. Emma sat up next to him, covertly trying to see how freaked out he was that they had slept together. Well, not together in the colloquial sense, but touching each other. They hadn't exactly woken up in a strictly friends way.

He gave her a little smile. "Hello, Swan." His lilting voice was rough from sleep.

"Hey," she replied a bit tentatively, waiting to see if their night had changed something between them.

"Sleep well?"

She nodded. Because she had. Emma felt as if she'd slept for four days rather than just a night. "Are you feeling better?" she asked, throwing off the warm blanket. Killian must have put it on her after she fell asleep.

"Much, thank you, lass. For everything." Emma was pretty sure everything meant more than just being a listening ear. Not that she would push for clarification. Emma stood, straightening her sweater.

"Do you want coffee?"

"Okay, sure. How about you put a pot on and I start the fourth movie?"

Emma paused on her walk to the kitchen. No. She wasn't going to let him hide here anymore. If she were to let him stay it would have been for her own selfish reasons. Killian didn't need to hide. She marched back towards him.

"Actually, no. You're not skipping work today. You're going to go back to Boston and make sure Milah knows that she doesn't matter either. Go be the best fish lab tech ever and make your boss remember why he hired you."

Killian raised a brow, slightly shocked. "Are you kicking me out, Swan?"

She shrugged. "This is for the best. If you hide then she won. But if you show up she didn't. She's just a dalliance from your past. Even if that isn't true she doesn't need to know that. Don't skip work because she might be around. Think of how long you went without seeing her before. Yesterday was a fluke. Your fish need you. So you're going to go and then come back next week and tell me all about how you rubbed Milah's face in how over her you are."

Killian gave her an amused smile. "I'm not actually working with live fish right now. It's mostly numbers."

Emma scrunched up her face. "Well then, your numbers need you."

He shook his head at Emma's insistent arguing. "And how can I deny them this handsome face?"

Emma rolled her eyes and moved towards the door to hide the blush she was sure was creeping its way up her cheeks. "Well change first, especially since you'll be late. You look like the walk of shame." Emma's eyes grew wide when she realized what she had said. Her face turned into an inferno.

Killian laughed loudly, mostly at her embarrassment. "Because no one will believe that _I_ actually spent the night on my best friend's couch watching Harry Potter and drinking hot chocolate. Especially if they knew what you looked like."

Emma balked a bit at his words before opening the door and pointing outside. "Get out, Jones," she told him though her tone was exasperated and not angry. With another laugh Killian left, turning around and winking at her halfway to his car. Emma waved him off, feigning annoyance, and shut the door.

She went back to the living room and flopped down on the couch. It still smelled like him; lab strength antiseptic cleaner and seaweed mixed with whatever good smelling product he'd used the day before. Emma couldn't help but draw in a breath of the smell. She groaned in frustration at herself, smashing her face down onto the cushions. It was going to be a long week.


	8. Hostage

_A/N:_ To warn everyone- there is violence in this chapter.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

There was an unusual amount of commotion at the police station when Emma arrived for her shift Wednesday afternoon. A few cops ran by her towards the office as a radio went off in the background, signalling a situation. David met her at the door, a bit of panic in his eyes. Emma's heart started to thump and she reached for her gun, waiting for David to debrief her on the situation. David didn't get riled easily, not when he'd spent his first months as a rookie in one of the rougher parts of New York and then had been on the squad here for several years. If David was scared then Emma had good reason to be wary as well.

"Hostage situation." David's voice was sharp and his strides long and fast.

Emma cursed under her breath as she hurried after David to the car. Storybrooke didn't have these kinds of situations. Even the robbery a few weeks ago had been way out of the norm. The detachment wasn't prepared for this kind of action and backup was over forty five minutes away. Emma didn't even have her own bulletproof vest. David flicked on the sirens and they took off, tires nearly squealing as he backed out of the parking space.

"It's over some sort of custody battle. A man took his ex-wife when she arrived home from work and has a gun on her. It was the kid who called 911. He got away because he'd been carrying groceries in after her and saw his father with the gun. As of right now we're the only unit on our way since we were the only scheduled to be on parole when the call came in. Graham's already there, trying to diffuse the situation from outside."

"He's had no luck?"

David shook his head and radioed their ETA to the dispatcher. Cars pulled over in front of them as they hurtled past, travelling towards the residential portion of Storybrooke. They weren't actually that far from Emma's own place. David slammed on the breaks in front of a little two level house where Graham was perched on the deck, megaphone in his hands. The line of Graham's shoulders was stiff and his free hand was clenching against his side, just below where his gun hung. If Graham was that itching to get his gun things were not going well. An ambulance was there as well, parked in the driveway as the paramedics loaded the child up and took him away to be evaluated.

Emma could only imagine what the child was feeling. The whole situation reminded her too much of her own past, even though she'd never been in this kind of caliber of situation before. She understood the fear though. That fear still threatened to cripple her when it reared its ugly head. Emma pushed the memories away before they could steal her focus.

Emma got out of the car, pulling out her gun and clicking off the safety. She held it easily in her hands, pointed downwards but ready to be drawn and fired at a moment's notice. She approached Graham who tilted his head towards her to let her know he had noticed her, never taking his eyes off the door.

"Any response?" Emma asked quietly, eyeing up the house. It was too dark. Too quiet. She couldn't see the man with the gun or the hostage as all the blinds in the front of the house had been drawn. For all Emma knew he could be peering out from behind one of the slats in the closed blinds, watching, gun trained on any one of them. Everything about the situation screamed of a bad ending.

"None. I've asked him to let her go. There's no response at all from him though there was a scream from the woman after I called out so I know they can hear me. I was waiting for backup before trying anything else." Emma nodded and signaled for Graham to try to reach the man again.

"Come out with your hands up or officers will enter the premises."

Two gunshots rang out making Emma flinch backwards in surprise, running into David who had come up directly behind her as she spoke to Graham. Little tufts of smoke came off the house where the man had fired the bullets through the wall at an upwards angle. Warning shots. Graham cursed and set down the megaphone.

"I don't want this to get worse." Graham sounded weary, the stress of the situation wiping him out.

"Then we enter the house," Emma replied simply. This man was not going to hurt his ex-wife, not when Emma was around. Emma knew the damage abuse caused far too well to stand by and watch anyone experience it.

Graham glanced down at her, drawing his own gun. Graham would listen to Emma. Never once in their partnership had she steered him wrong. He was also well aware that she would go in herself, without backup, if he didn't agree. "You ready for a showdown, partner?"

Emma nodded sharply. "David, go around back and see if there's a back door or something you can use to get in. We'll distract him by going through the front. Gun up. Shoot straight. And get that woman out."

Graham gave her a tight lipped smile. "You should have been sheriff."

Emma shrugged. "Too much bureaucracy." She turned back to David. "Be careful. Mary Margaret would have my head if I let anything happen to you." She gave him a little push towards the side of the house before he could respond with anything sappy and break her focus.

She took a step towards the door, Graham following her.

"We're coming in now. Let the hostage go." Graham's voice was nearly as loud as it had been with the megaphone. Both stopped, listening for a response. Emma would give anything for that response not to be gunshots, especially ones that weren't meant as a warning this time.

There was nothing from the people inside. Emma reached forwards and jimmied the door handle. It swung open under her touch. What kind of person creating a hostage situation left the door unlocked? Emma had a feeling this situation hadn't been supposed to go this way, that emotions had run high and the gun had been pulled. That made her nervous. What else could this man be prompted to do in a high stress situation?

Emma and Graham entered the house, guns held aloft, checking the area for signs of the gunman. They entered into a little hallway and cleared it quickly. At the sound of their slow footsteps the woman started to make a whining noise from the adjacent room. There was the sound of skin on skin and then a cry of pain. Emma's fingers tightened around her gun, her knuckles turning white.

Graham stepped into the living room first. Inside, sitting on a tufted chair was a woman, mascara lines streaking down her face from crying silent tears. The man behind her had his shotgun trained to her neck. Sweat poured down his face and his eyes were wild, rolling quickly from Emma to Graham and back again.

"Put the gun down, Sir," Graham commanded, taking another step into the room.

The man shook his head. "Come one step closer and I blow her brains out."

"Put the gun down. I won't ask again," Graham barked. He didn't move closer.

Emma stepped further into the room, coming up next to Graham. She didn't like the idea of him being in front of her in such a volatile situation. "Do what he says and this will all go easier." Emma tried to keep her voice even and authoritative.

"You better listen to her. She has the best shot in the department," David said, entering from behind. The man jumped and whirled, gun pointed at David and away from his wife. David had his raised as well, confident in his stance in the other doorway. With his adrenaline pumping he was ready.

Before Graham or Emma could do anything now that the man's back was turned and his attention diverted, the woman bolted towards them, letting out a little shriek of terror as she stumbled off the chair and away from her ex. The man turned back to his fleeing ex-wife, anger contorting his face.

Emma saw it all coming. Saw the gun being raised and aimed. Saw the wife's back turned as she made for the door.

Emma stepped forwards as the man's finger twitched, positioning herself in front of the hostage. The wife didn't deserve that kind of ending. That's all Emma could think as she braced herself, hoping for a different outcome than the one she predicted. Two bangs echoed through the house as both barrels of the rifle were emptied. Emma felt the impact before she felt the pain. Right below her collar bone.

As she crumpled to the ground she couldn't help but see the red pooling across her beige shirt. She had a tickling feeling in the back of her mind that she should maybe put some pressure on it and keep the blood in but her arm hurt too much to move. So she just lay there on the hardwood floor, the pool growing to a puddle. A few seconds later the blood was all she saw as the liquid soaked into her hair. People yelled above her. Shots were fired from both Graham and David's guns.

David fell to his knees beside her as Graham radioed for help. He kept yelling officer down into the radio on his chest. The sound was too loud for Emma. She groaned, just wanting him to shut his mouth for five seconds. She needed some peace.

David grasped her hand tightly while his other hand pressed against the bleeding wound. A whimper tore itself from Emma's lips at the pressure. She tried to shift away but her vision was going black around the edges, blotting out the red she had focused on earlier.

"Don't you dare give up on me, Emma." David's voice was thick with tears. He squeezed her hand tightly. "You're stronger than this."

But Emma knew she really wasn't. She felt David was just being silly and she didn't appreciate the gesture when she was dying on a floor. Seriously, David, what human was stronger than a bullet? She sighed at the ridiculousness of his statement and her vision went completely black.


	9. Name

_A/N:_ I know this is a short one but it's just the bridge between the last scene and the next one. The next one will be longer, I promise. Also, just so you all know, this accident isn't the one mentioned in the summary. That one is still coming. This was a last minute idea but I think it will help the story move along better. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Emma roused when an oxygen mask was secured over her face. It pushed air into her lungs, making her chest rise uncomfortably. Her shoulder stung around the shotgun shells with each movement, pinching enough to force tears out of her eyes. She tried to raise her uninjured arm to brush away the tears before someone noticed but her arm wouldn't move. A belt secured it flat to her side. Secured her to the bed she lay on._ Where was she?_

Everything above her was blurry, and not just from the wetness that gathered along her lower lids. Emma felt like her eyes had taken a vacation. Or maybe her brain had. She did feel kind of out of it. She tried to force her eyes open wider, to focus more._ Come on Emma, figure out where you are._

She was in a metal box, strapped to a gurney. An ambulance._ Yes, that's what it was called._ A pressure bandage was secured over the wound in her shoulder. The gauze was already soaked through. A trickle of blood ran out from under it across Emma's chest, catching in the dip above her windpipe to form a little puddle. The EMTs had cut her shirt open to get at the spot where the bullets were still lodged inside of her. Emma groaned at that, the sound getting caught halfway up her throat. She was going to have to get a new one made now._ Thanks a lot paramedics._ A heart rate monitor beeped erratically beside her._ That probably wasn't good._ She turned towards it to watch the unevenly spiking line._ That definitely wasn't supposed to look like that._

Sitting beside the machine was a man she knew. Tall, broad shouldered and blonde, wearing a police uniform that was soaked in blood._ David._ Of course he would ride in the ambulance with her. He looked panicked, his eyes red rimmed and his face pale. Emma hoped she didn't look that bad. David looked like he was going to pass out from worry. Maybe he should be on a gurney with oxygen too. He held his phone between his two hands, as if it was his only lifeline, his knee bouncing up and down as they drove.

"Dave?" she mumbled, testing out the name, trying to see if she was correct. He turned immediately, bending towards her face._ Bingo._

"Hey, Emma. You're doing great, sweetheart. Keep it up." He grabbed Emma's hand and gave it a squeeze. Emma mumbled something in response. Not even she was sure what she had meant to say. She just felt that David had needed some form of reassurance that she was alive._ For now_ a quiet voice murmured in her head. Emma forced herself to focus more on David than the pessimistic voice crooning about her imminent death. "I called Mary Margaret. She's on her way to the hospital now with Ruby. They'll be there when we arrive. Can you stay awake for them?"

_Probably not._ Emma made a noncommittal sound. Mary Margaret was going to kill her when she saw the bullet wound. Sleeping through the panic the holes in her shoulder would cause was a much better alternative.

"Is there anyone else you want me to call?" David asked, giving her hand another reassuring squeeze.

Was there anyone left to call?_ Yes, yes there was someone._ But who? She couldn't get her head to focus on the name. Emma knew he needed to be there. She needed to know he would be waiting for her when she got out of surgery. But she didn't know how to ask for him. What to call him. It was becoming harder to focus. She was getting dizzy just trying to picture the man's face. Eyes as blue as melting glacier water floated across her mind's eye. The Harry Potter theme song began to whistle in her head. This guy had something to do with the movies. Emma started to hum along. Maybe David would be able to figure the puzzle out for her blood-loss addled mind.

"What's going on with her?" David's panicked voice echoed off the walls of the small ambulance. Emma kept humming, the sounds growing more insistent. David had to understand. Emma couldn't do this without him.

"She's going into shock," the paramedic who had been riding in the back with them replied. A blanket was thrown over Emma. The warmth was better. It helped her focus.

"Hold on, Emma. We're almost there," David begged. Emma wished he would be quiet so she could focus. The name was coming to her.

Blue eyes. Scruffy face. She was his favourite girl._ Yes, it was coming back now._ But so was the blackness, creeping up like a disease, blocking out David's body and his surroundings. The warmth of the blanket was starting to fade off, being replaced by an extreme light-headedness. Emma fought to focus. She was so close._ So close._ The man had walked in on her once, being beaten. He'd taken her home with him afterwards and bandaged the spot where her skin had broken open under the belt, fed her supper because she wouldn't get any if she returned that night. He protected her. She felt safe with him. The name hit her like a ton of bricks.

Emma opened her mouth to tell David who she wanted him to call but the movement was too much for her weak state. The blackness swallowed her whole before she could even utter a sound.

A crying sound woke Emma next. She pried her eyes open and the first thing she saw was Mary Margaret leaning over her, tears streaming down her face. Ruby stood behind her, face pale. They were at the hospital, just coming through the ambulance bay doors. The blanket still covered Emma but she was freezing. At least the heart rate monitor had stopped beeping now that she was disconnected. The sound of that and the crying might have been the end of her.

"I'm okay," Emma whispered. Mary Margaret reached down and ran her hand across her cheek.

"Stay strong, Emma. We'll be right here, the whole time."

Emma was pulled away from her friends as the paramedics ran her down the hallway, someone shouting for help taking her to the OR. Mary Margaret's words echoed through her head. There was someone else she wanted here. She'd remembered on the ambulance. Who had it been? The name slowly started trickling back as they arrived in the OR.

The doctor leaned over her, sticking her with an IV and shooting some liquid into her vein. Anesthetic. Emma could feel it working almost immediately._ No._ She needed to tell them who she wanted to be waiting for her.

"We'll fix you up, Miss. Swan. You sit tight and we'll see you in a bit." The doctor's voice grew muffled and slurred.

The blanket was removed and the nurses started prepping Emma for surgery. Emma filled her lungs with air as the sleep pulled her down into a painless oblivion. She needed to get the name out. It was now or never. She was able to utter one word before the medication took its full effect.

_"Killian."_


	10. Scars

_A/N:_ This chapter mentions abuse so be warned if that is a topic that bothers you. Thank you for the lovely reviews. They make my day! I'm glad you seem to be enjoying the story. I hope that continues. So here it is, the longer chapter I promised earlier! Hopefully it meets expectations!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

A much steadier beeping than the one in the ambulance woke Emma. The oxygen mask was gone, replaced by a cannula in her nose. She scrunched her nose up because the sensation tickled, but the oxygen made her feel good so she wouldn't fight to have it removed. She was too sleepy to fight about anything anyways, the anesthetic still coursing strongly through her veins.

Her shoulder hurt but Emma expected that to only get worse when the painkillers wore off. Right now it was only a dull ache, radiating down her arm and up her neck. The surgery site was heavily bandaged under her hospital gown. A brief thought about the damage the shells might have caused played across her mind but Emma wasn't ready to ask if there are any.

Somewhere in the room a familiar voice was speaking. Emma searched her mind for the owner. Ruby. She was speaking to someone else who Emma realized was David when his response came.

"Maybe we should call him?" Ruby asked worriedly.

"Already did."

Emma doesn't bother to ask who the he David referred to was. Instead she let the sleep win and fell back into oblivion.

It was Mary Margaret's voice that woke Emma next. She was much less sleepy this time when she pried her eyelids open and looks around. She was in her own private hospital room but there was a spare bed beside her own suggesting that it wasn't originally designed for just one occupant. Graham probably pulled strings so she wouldn't have to share, knowing her desire for privacy. It was amazing what the handsome police chief could get done when he really tried. The walls of the room were a strange green that Emma couldn't help but think was the same green someone turned when they were about to be sick. It wasn't very calming, that was for sure. She was hooked up to an IV and a heart rate monitor but other than that and her friends positioned around the bed the room was fairly empty and nondescript.

"Hey," Emma croaked, her voice raspy from lack of use. Everyone turned to her, rushing closer, relieved smiles pulling at their faces. Mary Margaret positioned herself by Emma's head, David behind her with his arms wrapped around her waist. There wasn't a clock hanging in the room and the window blind was drawn so Emma couldn't judge the time. "How long have I been out?"

"A little over a day," Ruby answered, patting her leg. Emma groaned._ Seriously?_

"You scared us, Em." David's voice was thick with emotion. Mary Margaret turned and kissed him.

"Sorry," Emma replied, tilting her head up when Ruby offered her a glass of water. Emma drank it down greedily, as if she'd not been given liquid for a month. The water immediately made her feel better, more aware of her surroundings.

She pulled herself more upright on the pillows, hissing when the fabric of her hospital gown caught the edge of the gauze and tugged it upwards. Mary Margaret quickly adjusted the fabric then moved from David's embrace to dig through a bag on a nearby chair. Emma sighed in relief as the gauze was returned to its proper position.

Mary Margaret stood up holding a gauzy tank top that buttoned up the front. She moved back to the bedside and held it out for Emma's inspection. It was clearly one of Ruby's shirts. Emma didn't wear sleeveless tops. Not since college. She raised a brow at Mary Margaret, waiting to see why her friend was showing her one of Ruby's old shirts.

"The nurse said that when you woke up we could change you into something that wouldn't push on the surgery site, or get caught in the bandaging."

Emma shook her head. No. She wasn't putting on that. She wasn't exposing her shoulder. She'd rather deal with the pain. Frankly, she'd rather be shot again. "I'm fine," Emma gritted out.

"Emma, no one cares what your shoulder looks like. They aren't going to guess. The doctors didn't ask us about it after the surgery. And if they ask now that you are awake you can make something up. Blame it on a car accident." David's voice was soothing. He tucked a lock of Emma's hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead.

"But I'll be able to see it." Emma's voice came out a little more desperate than she would have wanted. She drew in a steadying breath.

Ruby sat down, careful not to shuffle her. "Maybe it's time you did. Neal's gone Emma. Don't keep giving him the power over your life. Over your own body."

"We all love you," Mary Margaret added. "Please?"

"Make sure you're here the first time the nurse comes back, in case she asks."

"We aren't leaving you, Emma." And that was why Emma agreed to bare the shoulder that was her greatest secret. Because unlike Neal, Mary Margaret, David and Ruby would never leave her. They'd proved that time and time again, taking Emma's insecurities and issues in stride, learning what set her off and remembering. If her friends would stay with her Emma could do it.

Emma nodded. "I'm going to need some help."

"Of course." Mary Margaret turned to look at David. "Why don't you go get us some food, David?"

"Why?" David didn't understand why he couldn't help and sounded almost offended that he wasn't allowed to stay. He'd known Emma for years. He knew that even though she didn't trust most men she trusted him. He had earned her trust.

Ruby muttered something that sounded like _men_ while Mary Margaret motioned vaguely to Emma's chest. Emma shuffled her shoulder, confused, and realized the doctors had taken off her bra during surgery to get to the bullet wound. Emma tried not to blush. She did not want David of all people to see her boobs. They might have been partners but he was like her older brother and Emma's breasts were something that said older brother should never see. "Out Dave. I want hot chocolate," Emma said firmly, nodding her head towards the door.

Realization dawned on David and he turned beet red. With a wave over his shoulder he turned and high tailed it out of the room, mumbling something about going to the restaurant across the street since it was better than the cafeteria. The door rattled shut behind him. Ruby shook her head and Mary Margaret bit back a giggle. Emma just groaned.

Ruby grasped Emma's good shoulder now that David had left and helped her to gently sit up. The pain of the movement was enough to make Emma whimper into Ruby's sleeve. Ruby stilled her movement, bracing Emma until the pain subsided. When it did she adjusted the thick pillows behind her back and let Emma sink back against them, taking a few more off the other bed and placing them behind her to make sure she was fully upright.

Mary Margaret produced a pair of scissors from the bag. "We're going to cut the gown off since I don't want to move your shoulder too much. Okay? Are you ready?"

Emma nodded because she didn't trust her voice. Even when alone and showering she tried to avoid looking at her scarred shoulder. And now it was going to be exposed for the whole world to see. Mary Margaret moved forwards and with Ruby's help cut the gown along the shoulders. Emma eased herself forward, biting her lip to keep back the grunt of pain. The gown fell down around her waist, leaving her exposed. Mary Margaret made quick work of the rest of the gown, slicing it down the middle and pulling it away. Emma leaned back again to rest, shutting her eyes.

"I forgot to ask," Emma began in order to get her mind off the shoulder she would see as soon as she opened her eyes. "How did the surgery go?"

"Discharge in two weeks max, they'll put you in a sling soon to keep your shoulder stabilized. Totally healed in about three months," Mary Margaret reported. "You were lucky that you were so healthy before and that the bullets only did soft tissue damage. They missed your clavicle by about three millimetres."

Ruby slipped her hand into Emma's and gave it a squeeze. "Are you ready?"

Emma squeezed her hand back and nodded. She counted to ten and opened her eyes, trying to focus on the pea soup coloured wall in front of her. Mary Margaret had the shirt unbuttoned already so she slid the strap up Emma's bad arm first because she could manipulate the uninjured side better to stretch into the other strap. Emma held off for as long as she could before glancing at her shoulder.

Three jagged and poorly healed scars crisscrossed the back of her shoulder, coming to a stop near the top, in line with the joint. The largest and deepest one was in the middle where most of the force had come down on her body. The scars were bumpy and puckered, some spots discoloured from where splinters of wood had been left in for the skin to grow over. There had been only so much David could do with a spool of thread, a needle and some butterfly sutures. Emma knew it could have been worse. David could have made her go to the hospital.

Emma tore her gaze away when Mary Margaret took her good hand and bent it a little to slip the shirt on. Mary Margaret adjusted the shirt, moving the strap on Emma's bad shoulder over so it didn't sit directly on the gauze bandage before using her nimble fingers to do up the tiny buttons.

"There," Mary Margaret said stepping back. "That wasn't so bad." Emma knew she was talking about more than just the movement.

"It honestly doesn't look that bad, Emma," Ruby put in. "You need to be close to really see it and the bandage covers some of it." In truth the bandage only covered the edge one but Emma appreciated the gesture nevertheless.

"Did you happen to bring me pants as well?" Emma asked, slightly awkwardly. She really wasn't keen on the idea of sitting around in a public place in her underwear.

Mary Margaret made a quiet sound of realization before digging back into the bag. That canvas satchel was like Mary Poppins's bag. Just what else was shoved into its mysterious depths? She produced a pair of heather grey sweatpants that were also Ruby's. Mary Margaret's clothes would never have fit Emma and they must not have bothered to go to Emma's own house since it was the farthest away. She'd have to get them to run there later and get some more of her things considering she was going to be in the hospital for more than a night.

Getting into the sweatpants was much easier than the shirt. Once fully dressed Ruby pulled some of the pillows out from behind Emma so she could recline. Just the energy expelled at getting dressed had been enough to make her want to sleep for several days. It didn't help that the medication hadn't warn off fully either. Mary Margaret noticed her exhaustion and bent and kissed her temple.

"Sleep, Emma. We can warm your food up later." Emma did as she was told and fell into another anesthetic driven sleep.

"David, mate, I know this probably isn't my business but what happened to Swan's shoulder?" Killian's soft voice woke her next. When had he arrived? How did he know she was in the hospital? Ruby's earlier question came to mind. So this was who she had been talking about. Emma should have guessed as much.

She stayed frozen in her position; eyes squeezed shut, trying to keep her breathing even as she waited for David's reply. She didn't want them to know she was up. Not until she decided what she wanted.

If David was to tell Killian the story behind her scars then Killian would know. He'd know why Emma was so much more guarded than she had been ten years ago. But if Killian did find out then Emma wouldn't have to tell him herself. Because he would eventually find out. Emma knew she couldn't keep it from Killian forever. At least with her eyes closed she wouldn't be able to see his pitying looks.

"It's not my story to tell," David replied, cautious and quiet.

Killian sighed. Emma could picture him running a hand through his hair, further dishevelling it. "Look, I know its Emma's secret and something tells me it has to do with this Neal fellow she mentioned once. But please tell me. I feel like I'm walking on egg shells around her and I'm so scared of hurting her when she's already been through so much." He was scared of hurting her? Why?

It was David's turn to sigh. "Fine. I'll tell you. But you didn't hear it from me. And I'm only telling you because I know you care about Emma. She needs more people in her corner." Emma's palms began to sweat as a chair scrapped across the floor. Someone had pulled one of the wooden chairs closer to the bed and settled in it. Emma wanted to know who was sitting by her but she didn't dare try to peek.

"If you know about Neal then you already know who did it," David started. "Emma met him at the beginning of the second year of college. He was not a nice guy, not that we knew until it was too late. It turns out every time he got mad, got a bad grade or something stressful happened to him he took it out on Emma. The marks on her shoulder are from the last time he hurt her. It was the worst time, the only one she hadn't been able to hide because she needed to call me to stitch it closed. Neal hit her with a folding wooden chair. She told him to get out and then called Mary Margaret and me when she realized how bad the cuts were. I couldn't get her to go to the hospital or file a report against the bastard. She just wanted it to go away. We did what she wanted because she'd already dealt with so much."

"Neal hurt her?" Killian's voice was a deadly volume, practically a hiss.

"Probably more times than she's ever admitted." David's voice was tired, disappointed at himself. But it wasn't David's fault. Emma knew that, had never blamed him, had tried to keep him out of the loop until the very end. But she'd never been able to convince him that. Which was why she didn't talk about the incident in the first place. Because people felt bad for her then got angry at themselves that they hadn't protected her. Emma had protected herself her entire life. She didn't need someone else's help as an adult.

"Now that you know what happened hopefully that will explain any strange behaviour on her part. Don't run from her if it gets too much."

Emma's breath caught in her throat as she waited for the answer. The quick panic at the sound made the heart rate monitor beep strangely for a few heartbeats. She hoped no one had heard the little noise of it.

"I'll never leave, Swan. I can promise you that." Killian's voice was so full of commitment that Emma wanted to cry. She couldn't not believe his words. And that scared her. Because she didn't know if she could be whatever Killian wanted her to be in the long run. She didn't know if she would be good enough for him, to deserve him.

David's phone went off and he excused himself, leaving the room quickly. It was Mary Margaret's ringtone. She must have just finished dance class and wanted an update.

"How much of that did you hear, Swan?" Killian asked when they were alone, bending close to her face so his warm breath brushed across her cheek. Emma tried not to shudder and failed miserably. Killian chuckled quietly at that despite the seriousness of his question.

Emma opened her eyes. There was no point in trying to pretend anymore. "Enough," she replied quietly.

Killian nodded. "Alright. We'll talk about that later. For now, how are you feeling?" Killian had been the one to pull the chair up and lean forward, just inches away from Emma. His blue eyes ran over her, checking for injuries as if he were a doctor brought in to give a second opinion. Killian reached forwards and grasped her hand. Despite her fears Emma let her fingers intertwine with his. The gesture didn't mean anything. She was injured and he was offering comfort. That's what people did.

"Like I was shot?" Emma answered.

A relieved grin spread across Killian's face at her humour. "At least you don't feel like you've been trampled by elephants."

"Ever the optimist, Jones," Emma drawled. "How did you get here?"

"David called me when you got out of surgery and they were given your things. He got my number off your phone. I left as soon as I could and came straight here." Killian drew in a shaky breath. "I was so scared, Swan. I thought you were going to die." Killian leaned down against the mattress, pressing his face against the sheets and muffling his voice. "I don't know what I'd do without you."

"Well you don't have to find out," Emma answered, trying to sound light. Killian moved his head so he could look up at her and gave her a small smile, eyes shining wetly.

"All I could picture was the call I got when Liam died. Even though you were out of surgery you had lost so much blood. That's what killed Liam. He bled to death before they could get him out of the wreckage." Killian's shoulders shook against the mattress. Emma moved her bad arm across her body since Killian held onto her other hand for dear life, biting her cheek against the pain, and set her hand on his head. She rubbed circles in his tousled hair while he cried.

"I'm sorry, Jones. Don't be upset. I'm going to be fine." Emma didn't know how to comfort him. She didn't know what he was looking for. But her heart was breaking and the pain of that was worse than the pain in her arm which was why she was able to keep running her fingers across his scalp.

"I understand why you did it now," Killian said after a while, when he'd calmed down. He didn't move from his position on the mattress though and Emma didn't stop rubbing his forehead. It was as if her hand was moving of its own volition.

"Did what?"

"Stepped in front of the woman instead of hoping it wouldn't be a life-threatening injury and taking the guy down. It was because of Neal right? Because of what he did to you?"

Emma took a deep breath, her chest screaming at the movement then nodded. "She didn't need to face that. What she went through was bad enough already."

"I'd have to say the same to you, Swan. Why didn't you tell me about him earlier?"

"It's not exactly a conversation I enjoy having," Emma answered, her mouth twisting from the sour taste Neal brought to it. The scars on her shoulder still stung when she remembered what he had done. "I just didn't want you to think I was stupid for getting myself into that kind of situation again since you knew about, well you know-"

Killian nodded, his hair rustling against the sheets as he moved. "Just so you know, I don't think any less of you now, love. I'm actually even more amazed now at how strong you are." Emma didn't say anything to that because she didn't have a response that wouldn't be self-depreciating.

"You should be at work," Emma said instead.

Killian smiled gently, acknowledging the subject change. "You're more important," Killian answered squeezing her hand. "I took some time off. My supervisor doesn't care because I brought my laptop with me so I can do my stats work anywhere. Wherever I want. Which is right here." Killian brought her hand gently to his lips and brushed them across her knuckles as if he were a prince asking a princess to dance. "I meant what I said to David, Swan. I'm not leaving you."

Emma shut her eyes and willed herself not to cry again. Why did Killian make her so emotional? She'd worked for years at controlling such a response and here he was threatening to undo it all.

"Sleep, Swan," Killian whispered, sitting up to give her more room on the mattress. Emma's hand fell across her body, his head no longer holding it in place. It was a relief to rest her muscles but Emma hadn't actually minded the pain. She'd liked comforting Killian. "You need your rest."

It was with Killian's hand in hers that once again Emma fell asleep.


	11. Interruption

_A/N:_ Sorry about taking so long to post today and only posting one chapter. I had a bit of writer's block today and I'm trying to make my chapters longer than in my last story. Hopefully I'll get back into rhythm soon and speed up. As always, thanks for the lovely reviews!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Killian was still sitting in the chair when Emma woke up next. She lay still, watching him because he hadn't yet realized she was up. Killian had his laptop balanced on his knees as he typed away furiously, using both hands Emma noticed with a pang. Every once and a while he would curse at the screen and rifle through the file folder set on the arm of the chair, pulling out papers with different labels and covered in numbers and diagrams. He was fascinating to watch work, intense and focused, chewing the edge of his lip as the keys clacked under his fingers.

Watching him work it became even more apparent just how much Killian had grown up in the ten years since she'd last known him. He was a responsible adult now, had forged a path for himself and was doing something he loved. Emma found that she wished she could have watched him reach this point, watched him become a man in the absence of the only male role model he had. Even though Liam was gone, Emma thought he would have been proud.

She leveled a lazy smile at him. "Hey."

Killian looked up instantly, setting his laptop on the tile floor and pulling the chair closer to the bed. "Hey," he answered softly. "Sleep well?"

Emma nodded. She really had considering while she was out someone had put her arm in a sling, strapping it to her chest. How had she missed that? "What time is it?"

Killian consulted his cellphone. "Ten a.m. You certainly can sleep, Swan."

"Don't make fun of the girl who was shot," Emma replied making a face. So she'd slept since the prior day all the way until morning._ Whoa._

Killian smirked back, amused by the wounded puppy dog eyes Emma sent him at his comment. "You snore you know."

"Do not," Emma shot back quickly, trying to force the blush that was climbing her cheeks to retreat. Who cares if Killian knew she snored? It's not like that would hurt their friendship.

"Shall I record you next time, lass?" he asked, eyebrow quirked. He wiggled his cellphone at her, pointing the mic closer to her face.

"You wouldn't dare." Emma tried to sound menacing but the smirk that was inching up Killian's cheeks made it hard to seem angry. Eventually she broke eye contact with a snort, rolling her eyes at the ceiling.

"David and Ruby will be back soon. They went to your place to get some stuff."

Emma nodded then glanced around the room. The bed beside her was unmade and ruffled, a pair of shoes tucked under the bedframe. She glanced back at Killian, eyes running down his body until she reached his feet. Black socks were all he wore.

A strange feeling started in Emma's chest at the idea that he had stayed. The feeling turned to panic when Emma began to understand the meaning of him staying, without even asking. He'd seen the bed and taken advantage of it, even though her other friends had gone home. She'd been practically unconscious all day, and he'd just assumed she'd be alright with him staying with her.

"Jones, did you stay here last night?" Emma tried to keep her tone even and casual. She knew the answer already but she had to hear him say it.

Killian glanced at the bed then his socks sheepishly. "Aye."

Emma immediately pushed herself up, groaning when the pain radiated through her jostled shoulder. Killian jumped up to help but Emma waved him off. She was fine. She didn't need help. Propped up by her good arm Emma turned back to a wounded looking Killian.

"You don't need to stay here, Jones. I'm a big girl. I've been through worse." She'd spent the night after Neal hit her with the chair alone; kicking Mary Margaret and David out of her apartment once she'd been stitched up. Being shot by some stranger and left in the hospital was nothing compared to that night years ago. She'd spent the whole night on the cool tile floor of her bathroom crying, not even bothering to clean up the mess the gashes in her shoulder had created after Neal.

"I know. But just because you've been in a worse situation doesn't make this one easy. I'm staying, Swan. I promised you that."

"Jones, please." Emma's voice betrayed her, breaking in her fear. She just wanted him to leave, to go back to Boston and return to that friend he had been after they first were reunited. Silly text conversations were safe. Killian spending the night at the hospital to make sure she was okay was not. That held the promise of more. The promise of something Emma couldn't give him.

Killian moved closer, sitting on the bed next to her. He didn't touch her but he didn't break eye contact. His eyes were gentle and understanding, not phased in the least by Emma's panic. "Swan, calm down," he said quietly. "I'm here because I want to be here. I don't expect anything in return, okay?"

"I don't know how to repay you. I'm not capable." Emma was speaking fast._ Too fast._ Neal had taken any chance of her ever being able to repay Killian away when he left. Emma's ability to have a relationship splintered like her old apartment's door frame.

Now Killian did touch her, holding her shoulders firmly and easing her back against the mattress. He brushed a tangled lock of hair from her face as Emma sighed in relief. "You're capable of more than you think, Swan."

Emma shut her eyes so she wouldn't have to see his gentle look. "Maybe someday I'll believe that."

"That's my only wish in this entire world," Killian answered softly. Emma felt him lean forward, his breath growing warmer against her cheek. Her whole body flooded with the warmth his breath gave her, tingling at her nerve endings and masking the pain in her shoulder. Emma was caught between the fear of the action and what it would change and the fear of what not returning it would do to both Killian's heart and her own. She braced herself for what she knew was coming, leaving it up to her own body whether she would return the gesture because her mind certainly couldn't decide. Killian drew in a breath and Emma felt the air caress her mouth, tempting it to twitch forwards.

Suddenly there was a knock on the door and they broke apart quickly, the gap between them feeling like it was eight miles wide. Emma was suddenly freezing, alone and feeling terribly isolated on the hospital bed even though Killian was mere feet from her, slumped in the chair.

Emma opened her eyes and looked towards the door instead of at Killian. She didn't want to know how he was feeling in case she had been wrong about his intentions. In case he had been going to go through with the motion simply because he felt she needed it. She didn't want to see relief in his blue eyes.

Standing at the door was a man Emma didn't recognize. He gave them a wry smile, as if he knew what he had interrupted and was sorry for it, as well as being mildly amused. The man had light brown hair that was les dishevelled than Killian's. He was dressed as if he worked outside, in study fabrics dyed colours that were least likely to show dirt. The man held up a small duffle bag.

"Here, Jones," he called, stepping into the room. He tossed Killian the bag which landed on his lap with a small bounce. "Just so you know- you really need to do laundry. Or bring some back from Boston. Those clothes were all you had left here."

"Thanks, mate," Killian answered. He almost sounded disappointed._ But in the lack of clothes or the lack of a kiss?_

Killian's friend turned his attention to Emma. "Hi, I'm Robin Locksley," he said extending his hand, pausing when he noticed Emma's banged up arm. He moved to put it down, blushing awkwardly, but Emma leaned forwards and grasped his hand as strongly as she could, giving it a few shakes before releasing him.

"Emma Swan," she replied, a satisfied smile moving across her lips as she noted the impressed look on Robin's face. "So I take it you're a friend of Jones?"

"That's what they tell me," Robin answered moving even closer. A chair scraped against the floor as he pulled it closer to Killian before lounging back in it. "Someone needs to fetch him clothing after he decides he's going to become a squatter in a hospital."

Killian groaned and punched Robin's arm. Emma glanced at Killian's face for the first time since they were interrupted. Killian looked annoyed but was valiantly trying to hide it behind a smirk and a raised eyebrow. Was he annoyed that they were interrupted? Emma didn't know what to think and wasn't ready to trust herself enough to believe that maybe he was.

"So, Jones tells me you were shot," Robin said appraising her wound. Emma reached over and adjusted the strap on her sling so it covered the largest scar, trying to play it off as if her sling was uncomfortable and she was trying to fix it. Killian's subtle nudge against the bed at her motion told her she hadn't been as casual as she had thought.

"Twice," Emma replied, ignoring Killian. She flicked her hair over her shoulder to cover it all since Robin was still staring at her shoulder. "Shotgun shells."

"You're pretty tough."

Emma shrugged noncommittally. "I'm a cop. It's what I do."

Robin nudged Killian, who jumped, startled. He'd been staring at Emma's attempts to conceal the abuse of her past. Emma was glad for the distraction because she was sure Killian was about to say something about just how tough she really was and Emma didn't want to hear it. She was feeling anything but tough at the moment.

"I like her," Robin said grinning. "Can we keep her?"

"She's not a puppy," Killian replied, unamused.

"I know that," Robin drawled, shaking his head at Emma and rolling his eyes towards Killian. "I just meant that you never bring anyone around anymore. Not since Liam died. And I never got to meet-" he trailed off at Killian's sharp gaze, looking apologetic. "I'm just saying, Jones. This is like the first cool person you've ever made friends with other than me and Jeff."

"I don't know if I'd say cool," Emma put in. Robin let out a laugh, grinning at Emma. Killian didn't do anything, clearly unimpressed at the self-depreciating comment._ Great._ Things had gone from uncomfortable between the two of them to just plain strained._ There you go, relationship ruined. Way to go, Emma._

Emma raked her good hand over her face and feigned exhaustion. She needed space. She needed to be alone and prevented from ruining anything else. Robin noticed the large yawn and stood.

"It was nice to meet you, Emma. Feel better," Robin said, patting her leg under the blanket. He turned to Killian. "Am I going to see you any time this week? It's been over a month."

"How about you two go have coffee or something?" Emma suggested as innocently as she could. "I'm just going to sleep, Jones. I'll be fine. Go enjoy the morning with Robin."

Killian didn't move, clearly not believing her. Emma turned to Robin and tried to keep herself from sounding too exasperated or desperate. "Drag him out of here would you? Jones is going to grow mould if he sits in that chair any longer."

Robin grinned and grabbed Killian's arm, tugging him out of the chair. "You heard the lady. She needs her beauty sleep." Killian relented and got up but not before shooting Emma a this-isn't-over look. Emma didn't reply, just shut her eyes and pretended to go to sleep.

When the door to the room had shut and she was alone Emma opened her eyes and cursed herself. She was so good at alienating herself. She didn't know how not to. The one time she had opened herself up to a man had been disastrous. Even if she believed Killian wasn't like Neal she still knew what she was like. Emma Swan couldn't have nice things. Not ever. She'd been denied a family as a newborn, abandoned on a freeway and she had been denied any meaningful relationship that wasn't platonic as an adult. Emma couldn't even believe Mary Margaret, David and Ruby still stuck around. She kept waiting for them to realize what a mess she was and get out before it got worse, which it infallibly would.

Alone and hurt Emma let herself cry into her pillow until she really did keep her word to Killian and fell asleep, her cheek against the soaked pillow.


	12. Naturally

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Ruby was waiting for her when she next rose from her sleep, a stuffed backpack set near her feet. She sat in the chair next to Killian's empty one, watching Emma, clearly unamused. She didn't miss Emma's flicker of a glance towards Killian's empty chair.

"Killian's in the cafeteria. He told me to get him if you still wanted him around." Ruby raised a manicured brow, pursing her lips. "What happened, Emma?"

Emma groaned into the pillows. They were still damp so she couldn't have been asleep for very long. "I messed up." Yeah, she'd mess up big time. Killian was gone, out of her reach in the cafeteria._ I'll never leave you, Swan._ Well, he hadn't exactly left as she had kicked him out but he was gone all the same. He probably thought Emma hated him. But it wasn't that. Emma just hated herself.

"Well that's clear," Ruby answered drily getting off her chair and moving to sit on the mattress. It moved as she sat, jostling Emma gently but her thoughts were too jumbled to register the pain in her shoulder at the movement. "Come on, Emma, what happened to drive the one person who literally could not be dragged out of here away?" Ruby's voice was gentler now.

"He tried to kiss me and I panicked and kicked him out," Emma murmured, not sure she could say the words any louder. But Emma knew Ruby had heard and understood when she gasped and made a tutting sound, laying her hand on Emma's. She gave Emma's hand a squeeze.

"Emma," Ruby started softly. "Why?"

"You know why," Emma answered. Ruby's gaze flickered to her shoulder and back again. She nodded, almost imperceptibly.

"Emma, why can't you let yourself be happy? Killian isn't Neal. Killian could make you happy. He would make you happy." But Emma knew she couldn't make Killian happy. A relationship was a two way street. She had to give as well as take. Eventually what she had to give, what she could give, wouldn't be enough and Emma would find herself once again alone. It hurt too much last time to risk that again.

"I don't deserve him." Emma's voice broke and she tore her hand from Ruby's to cover her face. "He's too good." Killian was kind and loving and driven. He knew how to care for people in a way Emma couldn't. Killian had seen enough hardship in his life. He didn't need to face anymore trying to be with Emma.

"Emma," Ruby said firmly, pulling Emma's hand away from her face. She grasped Emma's chin, forcing her to maintain eye contact. "You are good and you are loved and you deserve to be happy. You are strong and beautiful and an inspiration. You are brave and tough and even though you don't think so you are an amazing friend. I don't know what I'd do without you. Don't ever believe anyone who tells you differently, who tells you that you aren't worth it, and if someone does tell me and I'll go run them over with my car."

"Did you just utter threats to a cop?" Emma asked weakly. Ruby smiled and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

"But I'm doing it for a good reason. So I'm safe."

"I don't think it works that way." Emma laughed wetly when Ruby kissed her cheek again, making a loud muah sound when she pulled away. Ruby knew she was winning, knew she'd started the little trickle of hope in the back of Emma's mind. She might not have been able to start that faucet all the way but a few drops were more than nothing.

"So can I go get Killian? Will you try?"

The heart rate monitor beeped erratically for a few moments while Emma's head spun. Killian was leaving this as her decision. He'd leave if she asked and he'd come if she asked. It was Emma's call. One word either way would dictate the rest of their relationship. Forever. And Emma, despite her fear didn't want Killian out of her life for good. That pain was greater than the potential pain of heartbreak.

"Yeah," Emma murmured quietly. Ruby beamed proudly before running out of the room.

Emma shut her eyes and tried to breathe deeply, to quell any panic that was developing because of her decision. Her good hand inched up to her hair and tried to comb through the mats in it. She pulled her fingers back when she realized what she was doing in her fidgeting and tried to keep still.

She didn't open her eyes until there was a soft knock on her doorframe. Killian stood in the door, eyes sad, mouth twitching into a frown. His hair was tousled and Emma knew the tangles were from him running his hand through it, over and over again. Killian didn't move from his position, just outside her room and far from her reach. Emma pushed herself up, needing to get closer to him, forcing herself to keep the pain from her face. If he saw her pain he would come over, no matter what his decision was. Emma wanted to make sure he was able to make the right decision, no outside factors clouding his judgement. She just sat and watched the emotions play across his face, breathing through the pain and waiting to decide if he would decide she was worth it. Worth all the trouble.

"May I come in?" Killian asked quietly after what seemed like ages. Emma nodded. Killian walked over to her and sat down on the edge of the bed instead of in his chair. They were so close but Emma knew she would never be able to reach him, not really, not in the way it mattered, if she were to extend her fingers and grasp his. He studied Emma's face seriously.

"I'm sorry," Emma said quickly, looking down at her lap.

"Don't be sorry, Swan," Killian replied.

"I kicked you out."

"I know. That wasn't exactly fun," Killian said with a dry laugh.

"I was scared."

"I know that too." A silence fell between them, neither looking at each other. Or, well, he could have been looking at Emma but she still hadn't looked up to know for sure.

Killian drew in a breath and Emma knew it was coming. The words that would begin or end something she still couldn't quite put her finger on. "Can you answer me one question, Swan? It doesn't mean I'll hold you to anything. I just can't keep doing this, stumbling around this weird thing we have with no idea what's going on or when you'll run from me next. It hurts too much each time you run because there's nothing I can do to make your scars better if you don't let me."

"What's the question," Emma whispered.

"Do you have feelings for me?"

"Yes," Emma's voice was barely above a whisper. Killian was owed the truth. No matter how scary that was. "But I don't know what I'm ready for."

Killian grasped her chin, just as Ruby had and made her look into his blue eyes. "Let's just let this happen naturally, okay, Swan?" He gave her a little smile. "If we want to hold hands, we hold hands." He let go of her chin and tangled his fingers through hers. "If we want to kiss, well-" he bent forwards and dusted his lips across her cheek, before pulling back, his smile turning into a smirk.

Killian got up and touched her shoulder, guiding her back against the mattress. "Okay?"

"Yeah," Emma replied, still a little stunned. Killian settled back in his chair. Emma was shocked at how fast she called it_ his_ chair. How fast she had given the spot next to her to Killian. Neal had never had his own chair. He'd only hit her with one. The comparison left her breathless, the heart rate monitor going a little funny from the thoughts.

Killian picked up his laptop, ignoring the sound. Cocky as he could be he probably thought it was from his kiss._ Near kiss. More like a peck._ And he wouldn't be totally wrong. Killian opened his computer up and set it on his lap, just as he had when Emma had first woken up that morning. He began to type, focused in on whatever he was doing. Emma watched him, confused as he began to concentrate more on his laptop, not looking back at her despite their conversation.

"What are you doing?" Emma asked, sending him a curious look.

Killian looked up with a grin. "Working."

"Are you serious?"

Killian turned his computer around, showing her a screen with an Excel sheet open. Numbers filled the little squares in a sequence Emma couldn't follow. They seemed to be organized by Killian's own code.

"Why?" Emma asked, even more confused. He gets her to admit her feelings and then goes back to work? That stung.

Killian gave her a gentle little smile. "Because, I don't want to push you. This needs to happen naturally so you don't freak out and scream at me." He stopped, a mischievous smirk changing the smile immediately. Emma supressed a shiver. "Unless you want me to make you scream?" Killian winked and the shiver Emma had felt turned into a curl of heat.

Emma made a show of rolling her eyes at the ceiling to hide the lust that surely must be showing through her gaze. It certainly was in Killian's. "Go back to work, fish boy."

They sat in companionable silence for a while; the only sounds in the room were the mechanic beeping of Emma's heart and the clicking of keys from Killian's computer. Emma assumed Ruby had made David stay with her in the canteen if he was around to give the two of them space._ Two of them._ Were they a couple now instead of just a pair of friends? Emma pushed the thought away._ Natural. No pressure._

There was a quick rap on the door and then an older nurse bustled in without another greeting. Her arms were loaded with bandages and various antiseptics and tools. She looked experienced and kindly, the type of person who would enquire about anything to make conversation. Killian put his computer down and stood, stepping closer to Emma.

"Hello, Emma," the nurse called in a chipper voice as she went around the side of the bed opposite from Killian, towards her injured shoulder._ Her scarred shoulder._ Emma tried not to flinch away or cover the marks with her hand. Because the nurse would notice. And she_ would_ ask questions if Emma acted weird about them.

"How are you this morning?"

"Fine," Emma answered stiffly, watching the woman's hands. She put gloves on then opened several packages of bandages and medical tape. "I'm going to change your bandages now, okay?" the nurse said as she shook a bottle of antiseptic liquid.

The nurse reached forwards and took Emma's sling off, letting her arm relax from its bent position. Emma pinched her lips together, not saying anything. She knew this procedure would only get worse. With skilled fingers the nurse began to peel off the tape that secured the old piece of gauze to Emma's skin. Emma glanced towards her shoulder as her wound was revealed.

The wound was angry and red, bruised around the surgery's incision site making the area a sickly purple colour. There would be overlapping scars when the holes healed from where the bullets entered side by side. Stitches held the wounds closed for now, at least eight for each entry site. Emma tried not to panic at the addition of even more scars to that shoulder.

The nurse opened the bottle of antiseptic and poured some onto a cotton pad. She dabbed it against Emma's shoulder and Emma nearly went through the roof with pain. She cried out at the pressure and whimpered at the liquid that sunk down between the stitches, burning hot and cold at the same time. Emma tried not to cry. She was stronger than this. The heart rate monitor beeped erratically. The nurse murmured nonsense to try and calm her but Emma wasn't listening.

Killian's warm hand slipped into hers and he bent down beside her face. "Hey, Swan, over here," he called quietly, brushing his free hand down her tight jaw muscles. Emma turned from her shoulder to look into his soft eyes. He touched his forehead to hers, so close that when he spoke he took his air from Emma's exhale. "You're going to be okay. I'm here." Emma cringed and a cry slipped from her lips as the nurse pressed a clean gauze pad to her shoulder and taped it on. Killian squeezed her hand. "I'm still here. What can I do, Emma?"

"Stay," she whispered back, pain stealing her volume. His forehead was still against hers so the quietness of her voice didn't matter. He caught her words.

"No problem. Just focus on me. She's almost done, love." Emma felt the nurse guide her arm back into the sling but she tried to stay focused on the scruff on Killian's chin, the way his lips gave away the stress he was feeling trying to comfort Emma.

The nurse pulled back but Killian didn't. "You okay?" he whispered.

"No," Emma whispered back but managed a little smile to help offset her answer. She'd be fine when she settled down.

Killian stood back up when the nurse cleared her throat. "Darling, may I ask what happened to your shoulder?" she asked, almost nervously.

"Car accident," Killian answered quickly, squeezing Emma's hand. The nurse didn't believe it. Killian had spoken too soon. Emma supressed a groan. The nurse noticed Emma's strained expression up at Killian and then looked back at Emma's scars. Emma's heart dropped when the nurse's eyes narrowed and she chewed at the corner of her bottom lip, debating a new question. This woman thought Killian had hurt her. That hurt a million times worse than the truth.

Emma drew in a shaky breath and dove in. "Actually, my ex-boyfriend was abusive. He hit me with a wooden chair."

The nurse's face softened and she looked apologetic, guilty that she had suspected Killian. "I'm sorry to hear that, sweetheart. I'm glad you have found someone else," she said quietly, a small smile directed towards Killian. With a nod of her head she hurried out of the room.

Killian sunk down on the chair, completely drained. Emma let his hand slip out of hers. "Why did you do that?" he asked, voice tinged with equal parts worry and awe.

"She thought you did it. I know that look she gave you." She'd seen social workers give it to bad carers before they took her away countless times.

"It wasn't her business, lass."

"I know."

"Thank you." Emma nodded as a response, a tired smile pulling up one side of her face.

"I'm hungry," Emma murmured a few minutes later, hoping there was food somewhere in the room. With all the sleeping she had been doing she'd missed all her meals.

"Do you want me to go get you something?" Killian asked, moving to stand. "I ate your breakfast since you were still asleep and it was getting cold," he added sheepishly. Emma rolled her eyes and Killian started for the door.

"Call David. He'll bring up something." Emma's voice stopped Killian and he turned, eyebrow raised. "You know, if you don't want to get out of here for a bit," Emma added quickly, second guessing his hesitation. "I won't mind if you need a breather. I don't blame you. Go home and have a break if you want."

Killian crossed back to his chair and sat, pulling the phone out. He dialed while he spoke, "shut it, Swan. I'm good here."

David found them in the room fifteen minutes later caught up in an animated story from their childhood. They were telling stories about someone named Liam, the mention of the name bringing a sad smile to Killian's lips, but he seemed to be enjoying himself despite the obvious pain. David stood at the door for a while, just watching as Emma threw her head back and laughed. He couldn't keep the smile from his face as he covertly snapped a picture of the moment with his phone. This was the first time David had thought Emma would be alright with time since Neal and he didn't want to forget anything about her real smile.


	13. Hospital Garden

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators;

Physical therapy was the worst thing about the hospital stay for Emma. Five days into her stay it started happening every day in half an hour sessions. The physiotherapist moved her arm up and down, backwards and forwards and made her lift a small weight with her bad arm. By the end of the sessions Emma was ready to put said weight in her good arm and chuck it at the therapist. Seriously, now many times did she have to say_ ow_ before this person caught on? Emma tried to tell herself that she hated the appointments because of the pain rotating her shoulder and trying to get back range of motion caused. She tried to tell herself that it wasn't because she was wheeled out of her room and to another ward, alone, before being subjected to the torture.

Emma was wheeled out of the therapy room after her session, arm back in its sling and shoulder_ stinging_. She was finally leaving the hospital the following day so the session had been just awful. The worst one yet. The final big push before she became an outpatient. It was all she could do not to curse when she was jostled to a stop so the nurse who took her to the physio appointments could pull Emma's IV pole along behind them. The line pricked against her elbow as the slack on the tubing ran out and Emma bit down on her lip hard enough to draw blood, her mouth filling with the metallic taste. But at least she hadn't said something she would regret.

Just as they rounded the corner out of the ward a familiar figure pushed himself off the wall opposite and sauntered over. The nurse stopped, recognizing the brown haired man from when she retrieved Emma from her room each day. Emma looked up at Killian, brow quirked quizzically. He always waited for her to finish in her room.

The two of them had been dancing around the_ thing_ they had since their conversation. A week of amicable company, Killian holding her hand tightly when the bandages were changed, defending her when Graham arrived one evening, angry at her rash behaviour during the hostage situation. Emma had told him afterwards about her history with Graham and that he was just scared for her but she couldn't help but smile at him as she corrected him. It was nice to have someone to do your fighting for you sometimes. Hand holding was the closest they had ever come to anything remotely romantic but as Killian had said, what they had was natural. Someday soon it might progress to something more but for now Emma was comfortable.

"Hello, stranger," Killian drawled. He motioned for the nurse to give him the handles of Emma's wheel chair. She complied, moving out of the way. "Would you mind if I took our patient back today?" Killian flashed his best smile and the nurse shook her head, instantly putty in his hands. Emma resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Seriously? It wasn't like he had some sort of magic power over women. The nurse walked back into the therapy ward, out of sight, before Killian wheeled Emma outside the nearest door and into a shady yard the hospital used as some sort of overgrown garden.

"Why were you waiting for me?" Emma asked after Killian had adjusted her IV pole behind her and tossed his black hoodie over her legs as a blanket because he hadn't counted on the chilly breeze to blow through the garden when it was sheltered by the looming brick wall of the hospital.

"I thought you might want a break from the room," he replied easily. "Fresh air always makes me feel better. The salt air of the sea would be best but I don't think I'm allowed to take you that far off the premises yet." He slid over on the bench so he was facing Emma straight on. "How was therapy?"

Now Emma did curse, making Killian laugh then run a gentle hand down her injured arm. "That bad?"

"Worse," Emma replied sourly. She sat back in her wheelchair restless, wanting nothing more than to get up and walk around. She was sick of just laying down. Or being pushed around in the wheelchair. But she hadn't done much walking in the past nine days, just to the bathroom and back to her bed, so her legs were weak. She wasn't sure how far she could get on her own.

Emma glanced around at the little garden they sat in. It was made of cobble stone paths and patches of soil filled with flowering shrubs and wildflowers that Emma guessed had shown up on their own, carried by the brisk wind that ran through the place. It didn't seem well used or well-loved but Emma felt safe sitting there. She wanted to go investigate it further.

Emma sat forward, moved the sweater to the side of the chair and used her good arm to push her up to a standing position. She wobbled slightly before her hand found her IV pole to steady herself. Killian scrambled up after her, arm reaching out and catching her around the waist. Emma froze at the strong grip, instantly regretting going forward with the plan._ If she'd just sat still-_

"What are you doing, Swan?" Killian asked, his voice husky. Emma put that down to her imagination. They must have given her too many painkillers with lunch because she definitely was imagining his hand tightening against her side, fingers massaging a little pattern into the dip of her waist.

"I wanted to go for a walk," she replied, as calmly as she could. It came out fairly believable, a feat that made Emma fill with pride.

"I could have pushed you wherever you wanted to go," Killian answered. Emma shook her head before he could place her back in the uncomfortable folding wheelchair seat.

"I want to_ walk_," she told him, vehemently. Killian licked his bottom lip, weighing his options for a moment before nodding. Killian let go of her waist and grasped her good arm, looping it around his back so she had a grip of his torso. Killian did the same to her, holding her upright.

"You ready?" he asked. Emma nodded, determined and trying not to get caught up in the way he held her, firmly yet reverently.

Emma stepped forwards and Killian matched her step, humming into her ear as they moved. They were a few steps away from her wheelchair before he spoke. "Not so shabby, Swan," he murmured against her ear. Emma turned her head slightly and smirked up at him, exceptionally proud of herself.

"I have done this before, you know," she answered as they moved across the cobbled path at a reasonable pace. With him compensating for the muscle atrophy that had happened in her legs since she was shot by holding her up they were able to walk almost normally, as if Emma was just out for coffee.

"This?" Killian asked squeezing her waist, implying more than just walking. Emma gasped a little and stumbled forwards, the toe of her slipper getting caught in the crevice between two cobbles. Killian caught her as she pitched away from him, grabbing her by the shoulders. Emma squealed as one of his fingers pressed against her stitches and Killian released her in a panic. Emma was able to catch herself on a nearby bench before completely hitting the ground. She pulled herself up with her good arm and sat herself down on the bench, panting as the pain ebbed away.

Killian was kneeling on the ground where they had been standing, looking absolutely devastated. His hands sat on his knees, eyes downcast. Emma's guilt surged at the severity of the noise she had made. The pain had caught her by surprise was all. It hadn't actually been that bad. It was nothing compared to the therapy sessions she was forced to endure.

"Jones," Emma said softly, reaching forwards. Killian didn't move so Emma tried again. "Jones, come here," she asked.

He glanced up and there was loathing in his eyes, loathing at his own actions. The blue of his irises was dull and so unlike Killian that it made Emma slip down onto the cobbles and edge her way over until she was sitting in front of him.

She reached out and he flinched away. Killian would have fallen backwards onto his behind had Emma not lunged forward and grasped the fabric of his shirt, pulling back to right him again. He sagged against her hand when he realized she had no plans on letting him go now that she had a grip on him.

"Jones," Emma started calmly. "Killian, I'm fine. Look at me."

Killian looked up at his name but shook his head. "I did what I promised never to do." His voice was utterly broken and it cracked on promise.

"What?" Emma asked in shock. Her mind raced until she realized he was talking about hurting her, about grabbing her wound. "Killian, I promise you, you didn't hurt me. You just caught me by surprise."

"I'm no better than Neal," Killian confessed, a rush of air being expelled from his lungs so roughly Emma winced.

Emma had had enough. Because he had never once been like Neal. Neal wouldn't have cared if he hit a sore spot on her body. He'd nearly shattered her shoulder and barely batted an eye. Neal hadn't even apologized once for all the times he slapped her or pushed her down their apartment stairs while she was carrying groceries up. Killian wasn't Neal and maybe it took this reaction to causing her pain, even though it had been accidental, for her to realize that.

She let go of his shirt and grasped his hand, moving it until it sat on her shoulder. She adjusted it so his three center fingers each sat on a ridge of a scar. Killian watched, not breathing. When she had his hand in place she reached for his face, running her fingers up his jaw until they tangled in the hair over his ear, locking him in place. "Killian Jones," she said seriously. "You are not Neal. You are kind and caring and so absolutely lovely it scares me. But not in the way Neal scared me. Never in the way Neal scared me. "

And because Killian wasn't Neal she edged forwards and pressed her lips against his. Killian was still under her touch so Emma pulled back nervously, trying to look him in the eye to see if she'd gone too far. When she moved away from him Killian followed, trapping her lips against his. The gentle pressure of his mouth was matched by a pressure around her waist as Killian grabbed her with one arm and moved her onto his lap. Once situated on his thighs Killian opened his mouth, urging Emma to do the same. Emma complied, letting her tongue slip into his mouth and run along the inside edge of his bottom lip. A low growl reverberated through Killian's chest and he sucked her lip into his mouth, nibbling down gently. Emma pulled her lip back because she wanted to kiss him too, not just be kissed. She firmed up her grasp of his hair and pushed him against her mouth, their tongues tangling together as the nervous kiss Emma had started sparked something inside of her. But for once it was a good something.

She pulled back gasping for air and watched Killian's face until his eyes opened. They did so slowly, lazily and he smiled when he took her in, blushed and panting from the force of the kiss. "See," Emma whispered, resting her hand against his that still sat on her scars. "Not Neal."

"I am sorry, Swan," Killian said seriously.

"About the kiss?" Emma asked, instantly afraid. Killian hadn't seemed to regret the action in the moment but now that he was coming back to reality, maybe now he saw it all as a big mistake. Maybe the kiss made him realize that he had no feelings for her that went past friendship.

"No, love," Killian replied quickly, dusting his lips against hers as if to further prove his answer. "About hurting you."

"I'm a big girl, Jones," Emma replied with a smirk, relieved. "I don't go down so easily."

"I know. But sadly you are also a big girl who needs to get back to her room before the nurses think I kidnapped her."

Emma pouted at him but he just laughed. Killian slid a hand under her knees and moved his other down her back slightly, supporting her, before standing. Emma startled a little when he stood, her hand grasping at the soft cotton of his shirt. He carried her a few strides before hooking his foot around her IV pole and rolling it towards them. A few more steps and he set Emma down in her wheelchair gently, rearranging her sling so it sat without any wrinkles against her chest. He picked up his hoodie and set it back down on her legs. A quick kiss dusted over her cheek before Killian disappeared behind her and started to push her back inside.

"You doing okay?" Killian asked as he pushed her up the hall. She knew he didn't mean how she was feeling physically.

"I don't regret it. It felt natural."

"Good."

"I'm still not ready to label this though," Emma said quickly.

"I didn't ask you to."

"Okay," Emma replied nodding to herself. She could exist with whatever she had with Killian as long as she didn't have to label it. It was the labels that got scary because they came with pressure. Natural had no pressure because whatever happened, happened. Emma didn't have to deal with things like first dates, anniversaries, living with each other. This was a better set up anyways with Killian working away so much. It would be easier on both of them in Emma's opinion.

Killian stopped just in front of Emma's room and moved around in front of her. "Thank you for letting me in. This is just in case it takes a while for you to remember to unlock the door again." Killian moved towards her and pressed his lips against hers sweetly.

Emma was just about to deepen the kiss, wanting,_ needing_ more but they were stopped by an ecstatic squeal from the doorway. They broke apart, blushing furiously, to see Ruby doing a little happy dance several feet away. Mary Margaret and David joined her quickly, stunned looks crossing their faces before Ruby shot her hand towards David.

"Pay up, bud," she instructed, laughing as David grumbled, digging in his pocket and pulling out a twenty.

"You bet on us?" Emma spit out, completely shocked and just a little bit angry.

"It was only a matter of time before you were boyfriend and girlfriend," Ruby told them, cocky.

"We haven't picked a label yet," Emma replied quickly. David let out a cry of victory and snatched the bill back.

"Told you I knew her better," he called at Ruby.

Emma rolled her eyes. She'd had enough of their silliness at her expense. She put her arm down from the IV pole and gave herself a push towards the door. Killian caught her before she could get to far, pulling the IV pole towards them and moving her past her friends in the door.

"Just because we aren't anything official doesn't mean I'm not a gentleman," Killian told her quietly when she glanced back, her glare a little sharper than she would have liked. She was upset with her friends, not him.

Killian helped her into bed and pulled the covers over her legs. "They're just happy for you, Swan. Just like I am."

"You're happy with us, right?" Emma asked then cursed herself. Why couldn't she just trust that Killian truly did have feelings for her? He had at fourteen and he seemed to still have them now. Surely that should be more than enough evidence for her. But she still couldn't shake that sliver of doubt that she was truly loveable. It wouldn't be as easy as a kiss in a garden to fix years of abuse, stemming right from her childhood. But at least it was a start.

"Ecstatic," Killian answered. He gave her hand a squeeze before going back to his chair and settling in for the evening, only moving to fetch the pizza the group ordered when they saw what Emma had been given for supper. When none of them could figure out what animal the slab of gooey meat product originated from they decided that the best course of action would be to go for the tastiest mystery meat out there- pepperoni.

When their fingers brushed as Killian handed Emma a piece of pepperoni pizza she smiled coyly, feeling like a bashful school girl. When Ruby made a lewd comment towards the two of them she blushed but her toes curled. When a nurse came to draw Emma's blood for her final tests she held Killian's hand and he rubbed tiny circles into her skin and she shuddered at the care he had for her. And when Emma's friends left and Killian shut the door then climbed into the other hospital bed Emma slept, safe and comfortable, the pain of Neal a little bit less than it had been when she woke up.


	14. Monkey Fist

_A/N:_Sorry this is so late. I changed the order of some plot points last night to make the story move a little faster but it left this kind of awkward pause between the last big thing and the next. I'm thinking there's about two more chapters before we really get into the plot changes so I hope you'll be content to wait and read until then! Thank you so much for the lovely reviews by the way!

_FYI:_The first part of Mary Margaret's dance is Aurora's Wedding Variation and the second part is the Rose Adagio (minus the partners though). I know those are out of order as to the actual ballet but in my mind it's just the order she decided to practice the dances in. I also just put the fouettes in because I like them- technically what I was picturing was another role's steps. Sorry if changing things around or getting anything wrong upsets any of the ballet folk out there. It's been a few years since I was actually competitive in the dance world. If you haven't seen the clips of the Sleeping Beauty ballet look it up on YouTube!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

David arrived at quarter past twelve to pick up Emma from the hospital. Killian had offered to take he home but he was scheduled to set sail the next day again and needed to go to Boston to pick up some new equipment beforehand. Making the trip there and back before his captain's curfew was just too tight not to leave early in the morning. He'd taken off as much time as he could to be with Emma and while she appreciated it she wished he could manage just a few more days.

David met her in the lobby where Emma sat in her wheelchair, arm in a sling, bag of clothing balanced on her legs. Because the bulky gauze had been removed, replaced by just a wide bandage, Emma had struggled into a long sleeve Henley she found tucked in the bottom of the bag. Her police uniform's jacket had been ruined as well during the accident so she'd wanted the warmth the long sleeve could give her in its stead. Emma had waited for Killian to leave and the nurse to unhook her IV before changing herself, cringing and cursing as she eased the sleeve up her bad arm. She wanted to do it herself because she'd be living by herself and honestly, she wasn't ready for Killian to see her naked. That would_ not_ have been natural. The black leggings she put on afterwards had been more difficult than the sweatpants Emma had put on at the first part of her stay but easier than the shirt. Still, when Emma had finished she was sweating and exhausted and had to plunk back down on the bed and rest until a nurse arrived to sign her out.

She was supposed to wait in her room for David but she was bored sitting there so had wheeled herself to the elevator and gone down to the lobby right after the nurse left with her signed discharge papers. The lobby bustled around her but she had found a quiet spot beside the doors, tucked up next to a bench. It kept her out of the way of nurses but still in a spot David would see as soon as he entered. David arrived not long after Emma had gotten herself situated.

"So much for following orders, sergeant," David greeted shaking his head as he walked up to her. By the smile pulling up the corner of his mouth Emma knew he hadn't expected her to stay in the room.

Emma shrugged casually. "I've been up there for ten days. That was more than enough."

"And Killian deserves a medal for keeping you there for that length of time," David laughed as he started to push Emma out the door and to the parking lot.

"Jones didn't keep me there," Emma answered, not appreciating his insinuation.

"But he certainly provided a nice view, no?"

Emma turned in her chair and gave him a look, eyebrow raised. "Well if you're that into him by all means make a move. We haven't made anything official."

"I don't think Mary Margaret would appreciate that," he answered drily. He opened the door to his car and helped ease Emma out of the chair. She pushed off his hand when he placed it on the small of her back to move her to the car. Emma could do it herself. David just shook his head at her stubbornness and waited until she was inside and buckled up to shut the door for her, eyebrow raised in defiance.

Emma rolled her eyes at him when he slid into the driver's seat after returning the wheelchair and started the car. David backed out of the parking space and turned towards Emma's house. She was excited to be going back to her place. To have her own bed and her own_ shower._ She probably looked forward to that more than anything.

"Just so you know, Mary Margaret is already there, probably using your living room as a dance studio since today's her off day. She's staying the night and Ruby's coming over after her shift is done at the diner." That meant Emma's furniture would all be pushed into the corners so Mary Margaret would have enough room to dance across the hardwood floors. At least watching her dance would provide some entertainment during the mid-afternoon television slump.

"You guys aren't going to let me have a moment's peace are you?" Emma asked, but not in an angry way. It was touching, how devoted the three of them were. How much they wanted to make sure she didn't feel alone. How they felt it was their responsibility to make sure Emma knew she wasn't the same person she had been as a child.

"Well, no. Not really." David smiled over at her and parked in front of Emma's bungalow.

Emma just stared at her house, pleased that she was finally back. This was her home, as strange as that concept was to her. While still a foreign idea, the house had quickly become Emma's favourite place in the world. The landlord loved her and with the lease Emma had signed she knew she would not be kicked out unless she decided it was time to go. No one would decide she wasn't wanted or too much trouble and call social services on her. It was Emma's little place in this great big world and she wouldn't have it any other way.

David got out of the car and rounded the front to Emma's side just as she swung open the door. He extended a hand to pull her up, which Emma took. Once standing David slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow and helped her step up the pathway towards the door. Halfway towards the door it flew open to reveal Mary Margaret wearing a black leotard, light blue skirt, matching legwarmers and her pointe shoes. _Tchaikovsky_ blared in the background.

Mary Margaret waved them in from the doorway, not wanting to dirty the silk of her shoes by running out to them. Though she looked like that was all she wanted to do. The petite little woman was nearly exploding when Emma took a step up the porch. As soon as Emma was within arm's reach Mary Margaret grabbed her arm from David's and pulled her forward, slinging her arms around Emma's waist, careful not to put pressure on her arm.

"I'm so glad you're home," she murmured into Emma's ear before kissing her cheek. Emma didn't have a chance to respond before she was pulled inside and to her couch. Emma sunk down into it gratefully, propping her feet up under her. A mug of hot chocolate with cinnamon as well as a sandwich was delivered to her within moments.

Emma held the mug feeling a little overwhelmed at the care. "Guys," she called out, loud enough to be heard over the symphony currently blaring through her house. "Honestly, I'm fine."

Mary Margaret's head peaked out around the kitchen doorway. "I know. Now eat." A few moments later David arrived with her pain meds, sitting down next to her with a gentle smile.

"She'll get it out of her system soon," David murmured, handing Emma the extra strength Tylenol. She downed them before answering.

"It's not that I don't appreciate it. It's just that-"

"You aren't used to it, I know," David answered. "_We_ know. Even if she isn't acting like it right now. You scared her so much and then there wasn't much she could do for you in the hospital. I think she's trying to make up for it now." And that was why she couldn't be mad at Mary Margaret for smothering her with kindness.

Emma finished her lunch then stood, using the arm of the sofa to lever herself up. David looked at her questioningly. "I need a shower." When he opened his mouth to call for Mary Margaret, thinking she was unable to do it herself. Emma held up a hand immediately._ "Alone,"_ she told him, annunciating the word as clearly as she could. David looked over her carefully, checking for any signs of weakness before giving her a nod. "Don't freak out if I'm a while. It takes time to get hospital grime off."

David rolled her eyes and waved her off. Emma started down the hall slowly, running her good arm along the wall in case she needed support. But the trip wasn't that far to her bedroom from the living room and her ensuite bathroom was just inside her bedroom door. Emma loved her room, with the added luxury of an attached bathroom. She didn't think she'd ever be that lucky to have such an amenity. The bathroom wasn't large, and neither was her bedroom for that matter, but it had a shower and bath combination mounted on one of the walls and lots of shelving on another. Mary Margaret had put some knick knacks along the top shelf but Emma honestly wouldn't have minded not having them. Ceramic and glass figurines of animals weren't really her style. She didn't need extra things but as Mary Margaret had given them to her she kept them and deep down had even come to like them._ Just a little bit._

She slipped into the bathroom and turned on the shower to as hot as she thought she could stand before carefully undressing. The painkillers she had been given at lunch helped numb the pain enough that pulling off her sling and shirt wasn't actually that bad. Her range of motion still wasn't great because the pulling of her skin continued to hurt but it was manageable and Emma was tough. She could get through it easily.

Emma pulled off the bandage since it wasn't waterproof anyways and glanced at her shoulder in the mirror. The stitches had dissolved almost completely leaving behind two jagged but vaguely circular scars that were nestled just under the outside scar that cut across her shoulder. Emma raked a hand across her face. That shoulder was a complete mess now, even if she had started to become okay with the damage after spending the whole hospital stay looking at it. She might have revealed it in the hospital but out among everyone else, specifically Graham since she'd still been able to hide the truth from him, she was more than content to keep everything hidden. She wasn't ready for the world beyond what she controlled to know.

Emma drew back her shower curtain and stepped inside, hissing as the hot water hit her bad shoulder. She angled herself so the spray on her injured side was less direct and sighed as the steam and pummelling drops worked over her sore muscles. If Emma could stay in the heat and satisfaction of getting clean after ten days of medical treatments and filtered air grim for the rest of her days she would be happy._ Blissfully so._ Well maybe not blissful unless Killian was in there with her._ Wait? What? That's so not a natural step._ Emma shook herself out of the panic inducing thoughts and grabbed her shampoo bottle.

She squeezed some out onto her hand and used her good arm to wash her hair. It was completely matted from rubbing her head around on the pillow so much at the hospital. When Emma was completely clean and her legs were growing weaker she sunk down into the bathtub proper and plugged the drain, letting the hot water fill up around her. She floated her arms on the surface of the water and shut her eyes.

Emma sat like that until the water grew cold and her hands turned wrinkly. She let the water drain before getting out of the tub and wrapping her body in a thick towel. She was careful to dry her injury before putting a new bandage on it. Fully washed it didn't quite look so bad. Emma dried the rest of herself before dressing in leggings and a bulky knit sweater, slipping her sling on last. She left her hair down because a one handed ponytail was not something she had the energy to do at that moment then moved back to the living room.

Mary Margaret was spinning around the living room on her toes, strong legs carrying her across the entire expanse of floor in a matter of steps as she practiced for her upcoming show when Emma reached the room. Mary Margaret moved her arms in time, making wide and grand arcs with her leg every time the music swelled to a crescendo. Emma slipped past her when he music changed she began a series of fouettes in the center of the room, leg extending with each turn, arms held gracefully at shoulder height but barely moving from her position as she rotated, as if she was a figurine in a music box. Emma settled on the couch, tucking her legs out of the way. Beside her David watched enthralled. David wound his arm around Emma, pulling her against his side.

"She's something else isn't she?" David murmured and the love in his voice was palpable.

Emma nodded, watching the flickering of Mary Margaret's feet as she moved en pointe towards the window. "She's beautiful." Emma couldn't keep the awe from her voice.

"The show will be fantastic," David breathed during a lull in the violin music she practiced to. Mary Margaret, as the company's principle dancer, was set to star in the upcoming Tchaikovsky ballet of Sleeping Beauty. Emma couldn't imagine a better choice than Mary Margaret who was practically a fairy tale princess anyways with her grace and kindness and beauty. The show was set to be fantastic and Emma, who really wasn't into those kinds of things, couldn't wait to see her best friend shine.

Nestled against David's chest and being swallowed up by the music as the CD switched to The Rose Adagio- David being the one to tell her that- Emma let herself be happy and content. It was a good feeling.

The next thing Emma knew, Ruby had arrived with dinner from the restaurant. Mary Margaret finally stopped her heavy workout and slipped off to the shower. When she returned everyone dug in, scooping out bits of everything from the miscellaneous dishes set across the table.

They ate in companionable silence and when it was time to wash the dishes Emma was sent to the living room even though she insisted she could help. While Emma waited for them to finish up, listening to their playful bickering.

The doorbell rang and Emma pushed herself up from the couch to see who would be showing up a- she checked her watch- eight forty five. Before she could make it all the way to the door it swung open to reveal a rather flustered Killian. In his hand was a vase but instead of being filled with flowers it was filled with circular knots of rope, each knot a different colour. The strands wound around each other tightly to form a ball shape. Some of the rope was synthetic, other bits made from twisted cotton faded from the sun. Killian thrust the vase forward, blushing slightly.

Emma took it with a confused raise of her eyebrow. "They're monkey fists," Killian explained quickly. "A sailor's knot. I didn't think you'd like flowers as a get well gift."

"Did you make these?" Emma asked, staring at the strange but beautiful rope creation.

"Aye. But if you don't like them, you don't have to keep them. They're just knots."

"Shut up, Jones," Emma said quickly. She shifted the vase to her bad arm and extended her good one to grab his hand and pull him inside "Thank you."

Killian smiled. "I wanted to give you something that lasted as long as I'm going to be away. And longer. These will last forever should you wish to keep them. Like a reminder that I'm not leaving. Not permanently at least," he added with a wry smile.

Emma glanced down at the vase, letting go of Killian so she could run a finger over the skillfully made knots. She hadn't known Killian was capable of such artistry. But she was touched beyond words. He had given her something that she knew without a doubt would last. The rope knots left no room for her abandonment issues to make her fearful, as flowers would when they died._ Well that was a first._

"Do you want to come in? Everyone's here," Emma asked as she motioned for him to come closer.

Killian gave her a sad smile and shook his head. "I wish I could, so very much but I have to be at the boat in a few minutes. I just wanted to make sure you got those before I left for two weeks."

"Okay," Emma answered with a nod. "Thank you, Jones."

"I'm glad you like them. Well, I should be going. Say hi to everyone for me. Get well, lass." Killian stepped back but Emma jumped forwards after him.

"Wait, Jones. That is_ not_ a natural way to leave." Killian stepped closer and Emma crushed her lips against his quickly. "Much better," she breathed as she pulled back, smirking at the slightly dazed look on Killian's face. "Stay safe."

Emma shut the door but stayed near it, peering out through the window to the side of the frame. She didn't leave her spot until Killian's car drove away. Two weeks. That's all she had to wait to see that same silver car pull into the driveway, to see that same dishevelled sailing scientist strolling up the path. That would be worth the wait.


	15. Words

_A/N:_ Sorry it took so long to update. I have OCD and sometimes that drains my motivation and energy as it did the last couple of days. But I hope you enjoy the chapter anyways and look forward to where this story is going because I am. There are mentions of abuse in this chapter so just be forewarned.

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

The first week without Killian was alright. Emma still spent most of her days loaded up with pain meds and attending physio appointments. She hadn't been left alone by her friends for a single night so there hadn't been time for her to address the strength of her feelings toward Killian. She was busy and content. The text messages at night before Killian went to bed were enough for her. It wasn't like they were anything official anyways. She hadn't been expecting anything else. She_ shouldn't_ be expecting anything else.

The second week began to wear on Emma. At first she thought it was because she needed space since she hadn't been alone since the shooting. Coming from a life spent alone it seemed like a logical reason. Emma promptly convinced her friends to leave her alone for the nights during the week. But her restlessness didn't end when she finally found herself alone for hours on end, idly flipping through the television channels but never settling on anything.

Thoughts about the real reason for her mood began to trickle into her consciousness. She missed Killian. She wanted him back. Winter was drawing closer in Maine and she wasn't comfortable with him being out in the winter swells and water that could render a person hypothermic in mere minutes. She wanted Killian safe with her, watching movies at night and eating bear claw donuts for breakfast. But she couldn't make him come back before the boat was ready. And she had no real hold on him anyways to even suggest he stick around for longer than a weekend once he had come ashore. Emma was getting what she wanted and regretting it. And that scared her.

Had she really come to be dependent on someone other than herself? Doing that was how you got left behind. Doing that was how you got your heart broken. Each night when Mary Margaret left and Emma found herself wandering down the hallway to her bedroom in silence she cursed herself for becoming so attached to a man who came and went so frequently. For someone who had spent her entire life in a state of flux she'd done the ridiculous and started to fall for a man who left for weeks on end. Killian might say he'd never leave her but who knows who he would meet in Boston. Killian could meet some unscarred girl without the kind of background and baggage Emma had. And she would have no one to blame for the broken heart that followed but herself because she should have known better.

She couldn't quell the excitement and nervousness warring inside of her when the screen of her phone lit up with Killian's face Tuesday night. She let it ring a few times before picking it up so she didn't seem_ too_ eager. Because Killian would_ know._ It had only been a week and a half after all and Emma was the one pressing to go slow. She didn't want to come off whiny or as a hypocrite. Emma pressed the talk button and flopped down on her bed.

"Hello?"

"Evening, lass," Killian answered. Emma could hear the smile in his voice and couldn't help but grin along with him.

"How are you?" Emma asked, sliding her arm out of the sling so she could rest more comfortably. She chucked her sling across the bed but instead of sticking on the blanket it slipped onto the floor. Emma huffed in exasperation as Killian answered.

"Tired. We're just waiting for dinner now so I thought I'd give you a call. How are you feeling?" he asked in return.

"Physio still sucks but I'm pretty mobile now and Mary Margaret is finally letting me stay on my own."

"You don't exactly sound pleased about that, Swan."_ Of course_ Killian would notice she wasn't completely happy._ Of course_ he would hear the forced casualness of her statement.

"It gets lonely at night," Emma confessed burrowing under the throw she kept at the foot of her bed.

She pinned her phone between her good shoulder and ear before moving her arm up to massage the skin around the bullet holes. Ever since the injury the area had been holding a lot of tension and making her rotator cuff feel as though it was sticking when she lifted it. The same thing had happened after Neal had hurt her so Emma knew what to do from the past experience.

"Anytime away from you is lonely," Killian replied quietly. Emma couldn't help the embarrassed blush that heated her face at his words. Killian could be so heartfelt, so different than Emma, that sometimes it caught her off guard. And then made her feel guilty because she couldn't return the sentiment. Not out loud at least. Not yet. Maybe not ever.

"How's the ocean been?" Emma asked to move on from the awkwardness.

"Cold but fairly decent since the winter winds have just started to pick up. It could be worse. The boat has a heater so as long as we're off the deck it's quite bearable. The spray from the waves is the worst part. Water's so cold it burns."

"At least you'll be back on dry land soon. Take warmer clothes with you next time," Emma chided and Killian chuckled at her attempt. Killian was a grown man and Emma knew that. She knew she had no place to try and mother him. Emma didn't like to mother anyone. She wasn't even sure if she knew how to. Her statement to Killian left her confused because she didn't know where it came from. What was Killian doing to her emotions?

Before Killian could respond there was a shuffling and shouting on his end of the line. It didn't sound malicious but Emma called to him anyways, confused at why he'd be wrestling with someone on the boat. Someone thumped onto the ground and cursed but it was in a good natured tone. Emma pulled the phone away from her ear and gave it a strange look, as if she could see onto the Northern Osprey by looking at the screen. What was going on?

"Hello?" Emma called into the receiver when she heard breathing. "Jones?"

"Hi," a voice that was not Killian answered.

"Who's this?" Emma asked cautiously.

"Will Scarlett. First mate of the Northern Osprey," Will laughed before muttering something to Killian who still seemed to be battling for the phone. "Would you happen to be Emma Swan, the woman Killian Jones is head over heels in love with?"

There was a loud curse and hissed words from Killian and a surprised and guilty apology from Will in response but Emma didn't process any of it. She couldn't process anything but Will's words to her._ The woman Killian Jones is head over heels in love with._ In_ love_ with? How did this man even know who she was, let alone Killian's feelings for her? Had he been telling people about her? Making them into something they weren't. That Emma wasn't ready for? Just because she wasn't there didn't mean it was alright for him to push her or say untrue things to strangers.

Emma's heart began to race and she kicked off the blanket, suddenly boiling. Killian couldn't love her. He just liked her. Killian must have been confused because Emma couldn't accept the alternative. Only two people had ever told her they loved her and neither had ended exceedingly well for her. The first time had been Killian at age fourteen. She had run, left him high and dry for ten years. The last time someone had said such a thing to her had been Neal. Hearing the words again made her sick. Made the memories well up and consume her.

_"You know I love you right?"_

_Emma didn't reply. She just sat there, on the top step of the stairs, back against the frame of the open door. Neal was behind her. She knew he shouldn't be but she didn't want to make any sudden movements. Instead she tilted her head so she could watch him out of the corner of her eye, just in case, not that there were many places to go should his temper flare._

_"I said I love you," Neal repeated more forcefully._

_"I love you too," Emma replied just wanting this to be over, for Neal to go back to the charming man she knew he could be, to behave like the man she loved._

_"Then why did you let me fail my geography midterm?"_

_Emma turned to him before she could stop herself, eyebrow raised in challenge. It wasn't her fault. He was the one who hadn't studied. Neal saw the defiance, saw the spark in Emma's eyes but before she could either act on it or try to hide it Neal kicked out, hitting her lower back, right along her spine. She pitched forwards and tumbled down the stairs, not stopping until she hit the landing on the floor below. The apartment door slammed and locked and didn't open again for two hours._

"Swan?" Killian asked tentatively, seemingly having kicked Will out of wherever he happened to be hiding to talk to her. "Emma, please talk to me."

"How does he know about me?" Emma forced out between gritted teeth, fighting against the image of Neal's face that threatened to destroy her. "And why did he think you're in love with me?"

"Because I am." Killian's voice was so defeated when he said it that Emma's heart broke. Tears leaked down her face, unbidden. "I have been in love with you since I met you ten years ago, and there's nothing I could ever do about it. You weren't supposed to find out like this."

Emma just sat there, quiet and shaking. She couldn't do this. Now that those words had been said what they had could only go downhill. Killian would hurt her or she would hurt him.

"I can't do this," Emma whispered into the receiver.

"Emma, no." Killian's own voice broke. "Please, we can work this out."

That was one of the last things Neal had ever said to her. They never did work it out.

_"Come on, Ems, we can work this out. Just get up and get a bandage, you'll be fine."_

_Emma struggled to her feet, eyes trained on the bloodied chair still hanging from Neal's hand. She had to be ready to move if he swung again. She would be in more trouble if she stayed on the floor than if she faced him at eye level. Blood ran down her arm and pooled by her toes, destroying her socks. She couldn't even move her arm without nearly blacking out from pain._

_"No. Get out Neal." Emma's voice was hard. Neal was still in a large enough state of shock that he didn't get angry immediately. "Get out, now or I'll call the cops and your fingerprints are all over that chair."_

_"If I leave I'm not coming back."_

_"Good." A word had never done more damage to Emma's heart than that one. Because the one person she thought she could trust had proved her wrong. She'd pretended for months that that wasn't the case but now, as she ruined the flooring, she had to face it._

_"If you try to call the cops, you're dead." Neal's tone told her that he was absolutely serious about the threat. Emma nodded. Neal tossed the splintered chair to the floor and stormed out. Emma locked the door behind him, doing up the deadbolt he didn't have a key for before sinking to the ground against the wall._

_She winced as she pulled the phone from her pocket. David picked up on the second ring. "Hey, David. Can you come over right now? I need some help."_

"I have to go, Killian," Emma murmured before hanging up. She physically couldn't say anything else. Emma dropped her ringing phone on the floor and buried herself beneath the blankets. She covered her head with the sheets as if that could keep out the images of Neal and cried.


	16. Yes

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Mary Margaret found Emma under a lump of covers the next morning, a mess after not sleeping or taking her painkillers at all. Emma gripped the blankets in tight fists, groaning as Mary Margaret panicked above her, begging for Emma to tell her what was wrong. But Emma wasn't coming out. Mary Margaret couldn't make her. If she came out she would have to face what she had done. Which she desperately did not want to do.

The mattress shifted as Mary Margaret tossed herself down beside Emma and pressed her face against the blankets, recognizing that brute force wasn't going to get Emma to come out. Emma needed the gentle touch of Mary Margaret's mothering instinct and her friend had pulled her back from her breaking point enough to know that. "If you tell me what happened I won't make you come out," she said, voice muffled by the cotton. "Come on, sweetheart."

"Jones told me he loved me." Emma's dejected tone clashed with the squeal Mary Margaret made at the news. Emma cringed and started to cry again. She shouldn't have said anything. Mary Margaret just didn't understand why she was so scared. She had David, her prince charming. She didn't have to worry about getting hurt if she let herself be vulnerable.

Mary Margaret's arm snaked over Emma's body, hugging her tightly. Emma moved so her arms could be free from the comforter and grabbed Mary Margaret, pulling her closer, suddenly craving contact. She wanted to be comforted. Mary Margaret made shushing noises into Emma's shoulder, rubbing her back in soothing circles until the sobbing quieted.

"Tell me what happened after he told you, Emma."

"I told him I couldn't do this and hung up. I ruined everything," Emma replied, biting down on her quivering lip. Killian had been the one good relationship she had ever had. Killian had never pushed her to do anything she didn't want to do. Emma made all the calls in order to keep her feeling safe. And even that hadn't been enough. Killian had given her everything and she couldn't cut it._ Surprise, surprise._ Emma had always known she would never be enough because of her past. This had just proved it.

"Why would you say that?" Mary Margaret asked gently.

"Jones used the same words that Neal did."

"Oh, Emma," Mary Margaret cried, holding her tighter. "Killian isn't Neal. Killian would never hurt you."

"I didn't think Neal would either before he hit me." And there it was. Why she still couldn't trust Killian, even though she was pretty sure she felt the same way as he did. She had loved Neal and he had only hurt her. Even though she recognized that Killian and Neal were two totally different people there was still that lingering fear that he would change once he got her, that he was just luring her in with his charm before trapping her.

"Do you really think, deep down, that Killian would hurt you? Even by accident?"

The image of Killian on his knees in the hospital garden flashed before her. Killian had just touched her shoulder and surprised her that time and just that had nearly made him break down. That reaction had been to something unintentional. Emma knew that Killian would be physically unable to hurt her on purpose. It was that fear that Neal had instilled in her that clouded and distorted her thoughts.

"No," Emma answered, voice small.

"Exactly." Mary Margaret reached over and pried the blanket away from Emma's face and gave her a gentle smile. "So did you officially break up with him?"

"I didn't tell him that. I just kind of hung up."

Mary Margaret nodded and kissed Emma's cheek. "Okay, that's good. We can fix this."

"How?"

"First- do you want to get back with Killian?"

Emma nodded. "Yes. I miss him so much already." She wanted Killian there now, arms around her, holding her hand when she cried. As soon as she'd hung up the previous night she'd realized that, realized that she might never get that again. And that had been devastating, spurring on the tears. Because for once, losing something had been Emma's fault, not the foster family's fault or an angry boyfriend's. She'd caused the destruction all on her own. She couldn't believe she hadn't learned from all the times she'd been left before that were out of her control. Emma should have known better and she knew that. She knew that now.

"Okay. So when he gets home in two days go meet him at the dock and explain why you freaked out. Killian will understand when you tell him about Neal's words."

"I don't deserve Killian," Emma muttered. Mary Margaret grasped her hand tightly.

"Yes, you do. You deserve to be happy and I haven't seen you as happy as I have with Killian ever. Or at least not since Neal. Don't throw everything away because you're scared of getting hurt."

"There's only so many times Killian will forgive me before he runs," Emma muttered.

"Killian will forgive you as many times as you ask. Because that's what love is." Mary Margaret gave Emma's hand a squeeze. "I need you to tell me something, before you do anything, okay? Because Killian doesn't deserve to get hurt any more than you do."

"What?"

"Do you love Killian?"

Did she? Emma wasn't sure she knew what love was but she knew that she missed Killian, that she craved him and worried for his safety when he wasn't with her. She knew that she found him incredibly attractive. She knew she respected him for how caring he was despite losing the one person he looked up to as a hero at a young age and being alone to process his guilt. It hadn't turned him into some awful person. Killian was a gentleman, just like Liam had been. She was proud of him for getting what he wanted in his career, for honing his intelligence and staying committed to the dream he had shared with her as a young teenager. She was still stunned at how he had taken her to his house after her foster parent had beaten her all those years ago, how he didn't even stop to think about his own safety when he grabbed her and pulled her out of the house, foster parent shouting after them. She felt safe with him, secure and less lost. She felt cherished, like she was something valuable. She felt loved. So did she love him?

"Yes."

"Make sure he knows that on Friday, okay? Do you think you can tell him?"

Emma took a deep breath. Killian would be the first person to hear her utter those words since Neal. Killian would be the first person she allowed herself to love since Neal. "Yes."

Before Mary Margaret could respond her phone went off in her pocket. She shifted so she could fish it out and held it up to her ear, mouthing_ David_ before she answered. Emma had already known it was her husband though because of the ringtone. David had two ringtones programmed into Mary Margaret's phone, one for work and one for his personal phone. The staccato beeping that had trilled from the pocket of Mary Margaret's skinny jeans belong to David's work phone.

"Yeah, I'm with her," Mary Margaret answered confused. Her face blanched as she listened to David and she worried at her lip, staring at Emma. It was the same look Emma vaguely remembered from the ambulance dock, the one that said only bad things, fear and sadness mingling to distort her fine features. Emma pushed herself up and grabbed Mary Margaret's shoulder, squeezing tightly. Her stomach flipped and she was filled with dread. Something bad had happened. Emma's mind raced as she tried to remember the scheduling for the police station. Had Graham been shot? Was David hurt and calling to let them know?

"What happened?" Emma asked, voice cracking as she fought the urge to grab the phone from Mary Margaret and demand David to tell her what was going on. Mary Margaret hung up and sat up as well, running her tongue over her lips as she stalled for time. Emma braced herself.

"The police have been called to assist the coastguard. There was a fire onboard a boat and casualties have been reported. They're docking now."

"What boat?" Emma asked, her voice being stolen by her panic. She didn't want to know the answer but she knew she had to.

"The Northern Osprey."


	17. The Danger of Good Form

_A/N:_ Thank you so much for the lovely reviews and messages! They are what keep me writing. It means so much to me that you take time out of your own days to write me a response! I'm sorry this is so late going up and that there is only one chapter update today. I was shopping for things for my apartment today and the process took way longer than expected. I hope you still enjoy anyways!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Emma bolted upright, a bolt of pain shooting through her shoulder when she used her bad arm to push off the mattress. She couldn't breathe but it wasn't from the pain radiating across her bullet wounds. No, she barely noticed that. The pain was coming from somewhere else, somewhere she wasn't used to. Somewhere Killian had revived. She just wanted to gasp and curl up on the floor until her heart stopped pounding. She wasn't prepared for this. She couldn't process what Mary Margaret's words meant.

_Killian._ The last thing he'd heard from her was the line going dead after she told him she couldn't do this anymore. Killian had told her he_ loved_ her and she_ hung_ up on him. And now he might be dead, never to know that she loved him back._ Stupid, Emma._

Emma was angry at herself for not telling him then, when he was on the other side of her phone, awake and breathing. She was angry at her fear. And she was angry at Killian for getting himself into the situation in the first place, as irrational as she knew that was. But mainly she was scared. Scared that she was going to lose the man she loved the day after realizing how deep her feelings ran. Scared that she had lost her chance at happiness with a man who saw her for who she was instead of the foster system reject. Scared that she would arrive at the dock and find Killian in a body bag instead of awake and smirking, eyebrow quirking up his face in the way that she adored- even though she would never tell him that.

Emma struggled towards the door, stumbling over her feet as she gasped for breath. Mary Margaret caught her wrist, holding her fast. Emma struggled but Mary Margaret had a ballerina's muscles, strong enough to trap Emma in her bedroom.

"Where are you going?" Mary Margaret asked, her voice calm as she tried to soothe Emma. Emma didn't know how she was staying so calm. She felt like she was exploding. She felt like the whole world was exploding right along with her.

"I need to go see if he's okay. Jones can't die before I tell him I love him," Emma cried, ripping her arm again. The movement jarred her other shoulder for a moment, stilling her but not staving off the determination, the need, to see Killian.

"You can't drive like this, Emma. Let me," her friend offered, only letting go of Emma's wrist when she nodded. Emma knew she couldn't drive in her state and she needed to make it to the dock quickly. She wasn't crying but her eyes were foggy from unshed tears, distorting everything around her. Her hands were steady, used to holding a gun in situations of stress, but her legs weren't holding up as well. She wouldn't have been able to properly accelerate or brake the car with legs as unsteady as a new deer's so it didn't matter if she could steer. Emma didn't bother to stop and change out of her rumpled, tear stained clothes or even put her sling back on. Instead she dashed out of the room, Mary Margaret hot on her heels.

Emma slid into the passenger side of Mary Margaret's tiny car and grasped the door when it closed, squeezing until her knuckles cracked. The pressure in her finger joints was the only thing keeping her grounded as she sat in the motionless car. Mary Margaret got in moments later and started the car. Before she backed out of the driveway she turned to Emma and pried her fingers out of the leather, giving them a squeeze.

"Killian will be fine," she said vehemently, looking Emma in the eye. Even though she sounded sure her eyes wavered, flickering just a little too much. Emma was good at picking up lies and her sensor was going off more with every sideways glance of her friend's dark eyes. Neither one of them knew who the casualties were or how severe they were. It could be just something minor but because of the fire the boat had to be evacuated. Or it could be, well, not.

Emma managed a nod in response, mainly because she just wanted Mary Margaret to drive rather than because she believed her. The rest of the car ride was silent and tense. Images of Killian, cold and pale fluttered through her mind, the last look she ever got of him being his glacier blue eyes closed as a black bag zipped up around him. She tried to fight off the pictures her fear created by forcing herself to remember his caring smile, the way he'd looked when she picked him up at the dock all those weeks ago, stubble covering his jaw, hunter orange knit hat pulled over the shaggy mop of constantly salt sprayed and wind mussed hair he had. But Emma wasn't very good at being positive. That was Mary Margaret's wheelhouse. By the time they reached the dock Emma was convinced Killian was dead and lost to her. She bit down on the lip that had started bleeding after Mary Margaret rounded the first corner from Emma's bungalow.

David's car was already at the docks when they arrived. Mary Margaret pulled off to the side, next to her husband's car, in order to keep out of the way of all the emergency vehicles that littered the parking lot. Cops and ambulances, sirens going on each vehicle cast a strange and ominous lighting over the area. The Northern Osprey wasn't there but the coast guard's large rescue boat was tied to the metal dock rings and awash with activity. Ambulances were parked closest to the water; back doors open as the EMTs rushed gurneys to the large red coast guard boat and back to the waiting vehicles. There were four ambulances, all Storybrooke had, and all looked like they would be soon occupied if they weren't already. Some men walked away, seemingly fine, others staggered towards the police cars which would take them to the hospital, nursing small wounds and sore bodies in order to leave space in the ambulances for the more severely injured. Killian wasn't one of the men walking away.

Emma spotted David standing beside a stretcher that was waiting to be loaded into an ambulance. The person on board had an oxygen mask and bag attached to his face which David was calmly pumping, eyes watching the rise and fall of the man's chest. The way David looked at the injured man and the way he moved, having offered to help the EMTs out with this specific person, since he had his own first aid training, made Emma's stomach clench. She bolted out of the car before Mary Margaret could say anything to stop her and sprinted towards David.

Emma skidded to a stop on the other side of the stretcher and took a few deep breaths as she examined the injured person. It was Killian, eyes shut, face contorted with pain. Emma forced the tears back until she figured out what was going on. She could cry later. When Killian_ wasn't_ possibly dying. Killian's arm was wrapped up and set on his chest, blood already soaking through the pressure bandage that hid the wound. She couldn't see the injury but something told her it wasn't good. There was just too much blood and soot everywhere. A cut on his cheek bled as well, dripping down onto the white sheet that covered the stretcher. The rest of his face was covered in streaks of soot which made his skin seem even paler. Killian's breathing was rough, wheezing out of his chest so loudly that Emma's own lungs ached.

_"Jones,"_ Emma cried, the words ripping from somewhere inside of her. She ducked closer to him, running her hand along his singed work shirt, waiting to see if she'd get a response. Killian didn't move. Emma glanced up at David when he cleared his throat, noticing for the first time that a distraught Mary Margaret had joined them, tears streaming down her face. "What happened to him?"

"A crewmate got stuck in the engine room during the fire. Killian went in after him. As he was pulling the other man out something fell on his arm or trapped him, I don't know, they couldn't tell me. Emma, his hand-" David's voice broke and Emma glanced back at the bandaged appendage._ Of course Killian had to be the hero._ Emma cursed his idea of good form and how dangerous it could be before she was able to wrangle her anger back in.

She shook her head at David. "That doesn't matter now." What mattered now was Killian living. She wouldn't focus on anything else until that problem was resolved. She_ couldn't_ focus on anything else until that problem was resolved.

Emma squatted next to Killian so her face was level with his and grasped his uninjured hand. She squeezed his cold fingers. "Killian Jones, you bloody stupid hero, don't you dare die on me." Emma was crying in earnest now, sobs wracking her body and threatening to topple her over as she yelled at Killian. But she held on to Killian for dear life, never taking her misty eyes off his face, and managed to stay upright. "Don't you dare die on me, Jones, not when I love you."

"Swan?" It was more than a cough than a word, his voice smoke roughened and muffled by the oxygen mask. Emma's own breath caught in her chest as she forced herself to look at David to check to make sure she wasn't dreaming. The shocked look on David's face told her that he had heard it too. Killian's eyes opened partially and Emma stood so he would be able to see her without moving.

"I'm here, Jones."

"Why?" Again, his voice was broken and it sounded as if that word was took all strength he could muster.

"Because I love you," Emma answered. Killian's eyes opened a bit more and he tried to focus his glassy irises on Emma's face. He shook his head slightly and raised his injured arm a few inches, wincing.

"Shouldn't now," he murmured and Emma's' heart broke. What did his hand look like that he thought he wasn't worth loving anymore? That wasn't the Killian she knew. The Killian she knew was passionate and loving. Killian didn't care about Emma's scars so she couldn't understand why he would care about his own. Unless he thought distancing himself from her would be better for Emma. Because that did sound a bit like the Killian she knew. Killian let his eyes drift shut and Emma grasped his hand tighter.

"Don't you_ dare_ die on me. Don't you_ dare_ leave me. I need you and all your inappropriate innuendos and cocky smirks and caring words." The EMTs arrived and took over control of the oxygen mask from David before pushing Killian forward, forcing Emma to release his hand. She tried to follow but was held back. The ambulance was already full. Another, less injured crew member moved past them and took the empty seat next to Killian. If he hadn't had been injured Emma would have ripped him out of there and taken the seat.

"You didn't leave me all those years ago when you found out about my life in the system," Emma yelled into the ambulance as they secured Killian in. "I'm not leaving you now."

The doors shut with a resounding clang, too final sounding for Emma. Emma was left staring at the back of the ambulance, David's arm snaking around her shoulder, as the vehicle moved away. She curled into David's warm chest and sobbed.


	18. Burned

_A/N:_ Thanks so much for the lovely reviews! They are what spurred me to finish this chapter tonight even though it's 1:35 am here and I have to work tomorrow! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

David drove Mary Margaret and Emma to the hospital but had to leave Emma in the ER waiting room with his wife. He was still on duty and was needed for help, especially with the mess at the docks. Emma didn't want him to leave, not when he was so strong and solid when he held her. It was so much easier to be with David in situations like this. David didn't offer condolences when he didn't know if Killian would be alright, instead choosing to stroke her arm and kiss her hair. Mary Margaret was the opposite. She didn't stop her stream of_ don't worries_ for as long as they sat in the waiting room.

But Emma did worry. Because Killian was in rough shape. They had taken him straight to the operating room and no one would come out and tell Emma what was going on. Emma wasn't sure if anyone in the ER actually knew what was going on. All the people who knew Killian's condition were behind doors she couldn't reach.

She'd asked the nurses to tell her what was happening but they didn't tell her anything because she wasn't family. Nothing Emma could say would convince the nurse that Killian didn't actually have any family left, that she was his girlfriend and the person he loved. But she wasn't on his forms as his emergency contact so her pleading was useless. The nurse insisted she wait until the doctor came out and Killian was moved to recovery._ If he even makes it that far_ Emma thought sourly but the nurse's glare at her attitude told her not to voice the thought. Angered, she stalked back to the chairs she and Mary Margaret were occupying and sat down with a huff.

Ruby arrive an hour later with a change of clothing for Emma and her sling. Emma refused to go change from her wrinkled clothing that was, upon further inspection, spotted with Killian's blood from where she had clutched at him. She didn't want to leave the waiting room and miss the doctor with news on Killian's condition. Killian had been in surgery for three hours already- how much longer could it be? The longer it took the more convinced Emma was that he was dying. So instead of changing she took the sweater Ruby offered and pulled it over her bloodstained clothing and slipped her sling back on, easing her aching muscles into the fabric with a sigh.

Ruby sat on her other side and held her hand. Emma leaned onto Mary Margaret's shoulder, making a quiet shushing noise into her ear to stop the stream of words coming from her friend's mouth. Mary Margaret nodded and set her cheek on the top of Emma's head. Tangled together Emma tried to calm herself. Another hour ticked by, Ruby's fingers squeezing Emma's every time a nurse or doctor walked into the room. But none of the medical professionals approached the women.

A little while later there was a cough to the side of the huddle of friends, as someone tried to get their attention. Emma bolted upright, startling her friends. She turned to face a tired-looking man with a few gauze pieces wrapped around his bicep and stuck to his forehead and neck. Obviously he had been on board The Northern Osprey with Killian. Emma tried not to resent him for being fairly uninjured after the fire when Killian could possibly be on his death bed. The man's hair was cropped short to the sides of his head and he regarded Emma with nervous brown eyes. A leather jacket was tucked under one arm of his tall and lean body.

"Are you Emma Swan?" he asked and Emma felt a vague recognition at his voice but in her state she couldn't place it. Emma nodded then waited for him to continue. "I just wanted to apologize. I'm Will Scarlett."

_ "You,"_ Emma hissed, pushing herself up from the chair. She closed the gap between them, anger shaking her body. How_ dare_ this man, who had started this whole mess with Killian show up, nearly_ unscathed,_ and try to talk to her. No, she wasn't having that.

Will held up his hands, trying to placate her. Behind her she heard Mary Margaret's hissed warning to control her behaviour before security was called. "I wanted to tell you how sorry I am about what happened. I wouldn't have done that if I had known. Jones just seemed so absolutely head over heels about this girl he'd reunited with that I assumed you felt the same way, or at least knew. I didn't think you would have that kind of reaction."

"That's because you don't know me," Emma bit back. Will cringed.

"I know that now. So I came to try and convince you to give Jones a second chance." Emma raised her brow, confused. What did he think she was doing here? Selling Girl Guide cookies? "I've never seen a man so upset about a breakup. All he worried about was how he had hurt you. It was then that I realized there was more to your story than I had originally thought."

"We didn't breakup," Emma whispered. She had caused that pain for Killian?_ Stupid, selfish, Emma._ She should have called him back, told him everything she wanted to before the fire.

"You didn't?"

Emma shook her head. "I was going to tell him I loved him when he got back Friday. I didn't think about how upset he would be. I should have known but I was too scared." Emma's voice broke and a tear rolled down her cheek. Will stepped forward, unsure what to do.

"I was the one Jones went back to save. I should have known to get out of the engine room when the pressure escalated so much but I wanted to fix it. I'd screwed up his relationship and our friendship. I at least could fix the boat. But then the fire started and the blast of the pipes exploding knocked the wind out of me. Killian arrived in time to help me out of the engine room but just as he was leaving behind me another pipe exploded because of the flames and trapped him. I ran for help because the metal was too heavy and hot for me to move on my own. When I got back he was unconscious. I'm_ so_ sorry." It was then that Emma noticed the gauze coving burns across his palms, burns he had gotten trying to free Killian. Her anger towards Will disappeared.

"Thank you," Emma murmured, offering a gentle smile.

"I don't know how much comfort I can be but I'd like to wait with you," he offered. Emma nodded and moved back to the chairs. She would let Will stay. Will was a friend of Killian's; one he thought enough of to risk his life for. She wouldn't,_ couldn't,_ turn him away.

Will sat down next to Ruby and they all waited in silence. No one really knew what to say to Emma, terrified and upset, both at the unfair situations she so often found herself in and at her own inability to let herself be happy. And what could they say to Will? A man whose friend had risked his life to save him just days after said man seemingly destroyed the other's relationship? The motley crew that was huddled together was a mess but at least Emma found comfort in not being the only mess.

Emma didn't speak again until a weary doctor approached the group. They all rose as one, Emma and Will stepping forward a bit to meet him. "I take it you're here for Killian Jones?" he asked. Emma nodded, not trusting herself to speak. "Surgery went as well as could have been expected and he is in recovery now so you'll be able to see him as soon as he's transferred to his own room. The hand was saved but the burns and broken knuckles were severe enough to irreparably damage the nerves that control movement of his wrist and fingers. In surgery we managed to release pressure on some nerves so he may get some sensation back but don't expect much."

"But he's okay?" Emma couldn't focus the damage to his hand yet. She had to know that Killian would be alright.

"With rest and time to get used to his reduced mobility, Killian will be fine."

Emma let out a sigh of relief. "Thank you," she murmured and the doctor smiled and nodded.

"A nurse will be out shortly to take you to him." With that he walked away and Emma turned back to her friends. She was enveloped in a hug by Mary Margaret and Ruby, the kindness and familiarity of their touch making her cry again. It felt good to be secure after so long spent waiting for the news that her boyfriend was either alive or dead. She snaked her arm out from the crushing hug and grabbed Will's hand, pulling him into the hug from where he had been standing awkwardly to the side. Mary Margaret moved her arm and fit Will in their embrace as easily as if he'd always been a part of it. They stayed like that for a long time.

When a nurse told the group Killian's room number it was all Emma could do not to run up the hallways to find him. Mary Margaret and Ruby bowed out at the elevators so Will and Emma could see him first under the guise of Mary Margaret needing to go practice ballet and Ruby having the only car at the hospital. Emma was glad she'd be given a bit of space to be with Killian, even though Will went with her. But he stayed in the hallway when they reached Killian's room, telling her to see him first.

Emma moved over to the bed and sat in the chair next to it. She didn't look at him until she sat down, not trusting her legs to keep her upright when she took in his injured form. Killian was pale but someone had cleaned the soot and blood off his face which made him look healthier than he had at the dock. His hand was heavily bandaged and rested on top of his chest, oxygen pumping through the cannula in his nose helping his chest move up and down at a gentle pace.

"Jones?" she asked tentatively. The nurse said he should be able to wake up but she wasn't sure if he wanted to speak to her.

"You're still here," was his rough response. Killian didn't open his eyes but he tilted his head towards her.

"Of course I'm here," Emma answered. She reached forward and brushed her fingers over his hand. She didn't want to push him with contact, especially since his words of_ shouldn't now_ still echoed through her head. But she did need to risk pushing him with her words because he needed to hear them. "I love you, you big heroic idiot. And I'm sorry that I was a bigger idiot for being too scared to tell you earlier." Killian tilted his hand and captured her finger tips giving them a soft squeeze before letting go.

"You're not an idiot, Swan," he replied, his voice quieting as sleep started to claim him again.

"You don't have to try and lie to me to get me to like you."

"Maybe I do. I assume the doctor talked to you." Killian's voice was devastated and lost, as if he was certain there was no way they could still be Killian and Emma anymore.

Emma bent forward and rested her head on the pillow beside him. "I've got a messed up a shoulder, you have a messed up hand. I can lend you my hands whenever you need them."

"And you can have my shoulders to carry help the weight of our problems if you'll take them," he answered.

"Good," she answered and watched his breathing slow again as he drifted off. She may not have totally convinced him that they could still love each other yet but she had made progress. Emma just had to hope that the rest of the process would happen naturally.


	19. For Me

_A/N:_ Thank you all for the kind reviews and just reading my story in general! I really can't thank you all enough!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Emma and Will stayed in Killian's hospital room for the entire night. Thankfully the nurse who was handling Killian remembered Emma from her own stay and the way that the two had interacted so she didn't make Emma leave him alone to rest. Will set himself on a chair on the opposite side of the bed and quietly waited for his friend to wake up again. Emma did the same. Killian didn't wake up again that day, or if he did he didn't open his eyes to let them know. The only action in the room was when David showed up with supper and when the nurse came to push morphine into Killian's IV every few hours. She seemed sympathetic to Emma and Will, both looking lost as they watched their unconscious friend, but she didn't really have anything to say that would help ease their worried minds. Because of that Emma was glad she didn't say anything at all.

Sometime around nine o'clock the next morning Will got up to go get them breakfast at the coffee shop across the street. Emma stayed with Killian in case he woke, leaning forward towards his sleeping face but not touching him. She watched his chest rise and fall at a steady pace and had to stop herself from crawling onto the bed and laying her cheek on his chest now that Will was gone. The heart rate monitor he was hooked up to beeped steadily, the sound doing much to reassure her that Killian would be fine with time.

As she watched him his face began to contort in pain, lips twisting against each other. His forehead furrowed, eyebrows being drawn together and he pinched his eyes shut tighter. Something was haunting his sleep, torturing him and he was vainly trying to escape the prison sleep had created for him. A small whimper escaped him as his head tossed across the pillow. The heart rate monitor sped up as he started to thrash. Emma stood and reached out, holding his injured arm to his chest so he wouldn't smash it against the bedframe.

"Jones, come on, wake up," she murmured, giving him a little shake. Killian flinched away from her touch but she lunged after his contorting body and shook him again. She pulled her other arm from her sling so she could use it to brush the damp hair from his forehead.

Killian roused with a heart breaking whimper, eyes blown wide by the nightmare as he took in Emma standing over him. He shut his eyes again tightly before opening them slowly, as if he couldn't believe he was safe and that Emma was there. She ran her fingers down his cheek and into the stubble that had gotten thicker since she last saw him two weeks prior. He would need to shave soon or it would be a full blown beard. A pang went through Emma when she realized he'd have to learn how to do it one handed now. She pushed the thought away and concentrated on the now.

"It's okay, you're okay," she said, resting her hand against his chest where she could feel his heart beating rapidly against her palm. She pressed against the pulsating spot, trying to reassure him of her presence and get him to calm down.

"Swan," he breathed once the violent pounding of his heart had lessened to a rapid snare drum beat. Killian shifted over in the bed and glanced at the newly open space on the mattress. Emma knew what he wanted because she wanted it as well; contact, reassurance that things weren't all breaking apart even if they weren't sure what they were anymore. Emma sat gently and pulled her legs up onto the bed so they rested beside his, crossing her ankles. She didn't lie down, instead waiting to see what Killian wanted.

His chest heaved as he shook off the last of his dream, eyes trained at the ceiling. Emma watched him rubbing soothing circles onto his chest. Eventually he turned to her, eyes glassy from all the morphine. Killian searched her face as best as he could in his unfocused state before reaching up his uninjured hand and grasping the fabric of her sweater. He pulled her down towards him, wrapping his arm around her and holding her fast. It was only when she was pressed against him that she realized he was shaking. She looped her bad arm around him and pulled him tighter against her, not even feeling the aching pull of her partially healed shoulder muscle.

She made shushing noises into his neck as she waited to the emotions running through him to slow. "I was back there, on the ship," he whispered after a while, words slightly slurred. Emma pushed herself up the bed so she was on even eye level with him. She nodded for him to continue. Telling her his fears would help ease the pain. She knew it would because she had spent many years without someone to tell her own to. "The pipe fell and pinned me down. It was so hot, Swan. Will tried to free me but then he left. And all I could think about was how I was left there to die and that you would find out by the news or something and think that I left you just like everyone else. And it hurt so much. I just wanted it to end but I didn't want to leave you without making things better. And then I saw my hand, or well, what was left of it and I think I passed out."

"It's over now, nothing is going to hurt you," Emma told him, mouth pressed against his shoulder.

"It doesn't feel that way," he replied, his usually lilting voice thick. "It feels like you're here because you feel bad and as soon as I'm up you're going to take off because I can't be what I used to be."

"I'm here because I love you," Emma answered firmly.

"But do you love me because now I'm broken too and you're guilty and feel pity because I'd otherwise be alone?"

Emma sat up and angrily pushed him away. Killian jostled against the pillow with a groan. "How_ dare_ you imply that I only love you now because you're just as broken as me? How_ dare_ you think that that's the only way I can be with you? I don't pity you. I_ love_ you, Killian Jones. You should know how much I hate saying those words because of how scary they are, because if I'm wrong about you it will be Neal all over again. But I'm saying them because I damn well mean them, Jones. But if you don't want me to then I'll be on my merry way." She goes to stand but Killian reached out and caught her wrist. He pulled her down again before struggling to sit up next to her.

Despite her anger at him Emma looped an arm around his back to support him. Killian looked too pale to be expending his energy sitting up alone. He turned to her one he was stable against her arm, staring intently at the way her teeth worried at her bottom lip. "I just want to make you happy, Swan."

"Then let yourself be okay. I'm here. I'm okay. You're here. You're going to be okay in time. Isn't that enough?" she asked quietly. His eyes flickered downwards, insecure, before looking back up.

"If you think it is then I'm willing to try."

"Good," Emma replied with a nod. She couldn't ask for more. She wouldn't push because she hated to be pushed. Killian leaned forwards and pressed a quick kiss to her lips. He eased back before Emma could react and sunk his head against the pillow. Emma adjusted herself beside him, sitting with her back against the wall at the head of the bed.

There was a hesitant knock on the door and Emma glanced towards it to see that Will had returned, standing there, unsure whether to intrude on the moment the two had been having or just leave. Emma jerked her head to motion him in and gave him a smile. She still wasn't sure what to make of Will, of the way he had tried so hard to save Killian, of the way he had spoken to her on the phone before all this happened. She wasn't sure how to act around Will but she knew she was grateful towards him.

Will entered the room, a brown paper bag balanced on his hip and pinned to his side by the crook of his arm so that it wasn't touching his burned palms directly. He set the bag down on the bed and sat down in his chair. "How are you feeling, Jones?" he asked as he rooted out two wrapped bagels and a tray of carefully balanced coffees. Emma was impressed that he had managed not to spill the drinks while they were in the bag.

"I've been better," Killian replied. The two men glanced at each other, measuring reactions. Emma knew Will was scared Killian was still upset at him. Will had screwed up pretty badly with Killian lately but Emma didn't think Killian would hold his anger too long when the damage done hadn't turned out to be permanent. She reached over and unwrapped a bagel, breaking off a piece and offering it to Killian. Killian took it and motioned to her. "I take it you've met Swan already?"

Will nodded in agreement. Emma was glad that Will didn't mention their first meeting, how she had cried in the waiting room the previous day. That would only upset Killian further. "I apologized to her for what I did."

"Good." Killian bit into the bagel, a dollop of jam falling from the bread to rest on his chin. Emma reached over and wiped it off with her thumb, the casualness of her own movements shocking her. Killian glanced sideways at her but Emma concentrated on Will.

"Will stayed all night, Jones. I was thankful for the company," Emma told him, feeling defensive for Will. Killian glanced at Will and then nodded.

"Thank you," he said quietly. "For watching out for her when I couldn't." Emma offered Killian another piece of her bagel instead of saying anything to that. Killian pushed himself upwards before he took the bagel. Will leaned forwards and hit the button to incline the bed under Killian so he wouldn't have to support himself. Killian shot him a grateful smile, settling against the mattress with a sigh. Emma adjusted herself next to Killian and took a sip of her coffee.

A nurse came in as they ate, carrying a syringe. She held it up for Killian to see. Emma tried to make herself small on the bed so the nurse wouldn't kick her off it. She liked the way her leg pressed Killian's and the warmth and solidness to it, even though a blanket covered him. She didn't want to have to sit alone in an uncomfortable chair. "Do you want any painkillers, Killian?" she asked.

Killian shook his head. Emma moved to tell him that he didn't need to be strong if he was in pain but the nurse returned with a cart before she could say anything. The nurse motioned for Emma to move and parked the cart at the edge of the bed. Emma slipped down to the space by Killian's feet.

"We have to bathe and rewrap the hand. Would you two please leave?" Will stood immediately and moved towards the door. Emma hesitated. Killian hadn't left her when the bandages on her shoulder were changed. She didn't feel right leaving him.

"Can't Swan stay?" Killian asked. Emma knew he felt the same way she did after just one look at the poorly masked apprehension in his eyes.

"She won't like what she sees," the nurse said, cautioning. "Do you want her to see?"

Before Killian could respond Emma slid back up the bed to sit beside him. "I was shot a few weeks ago. Jones saw the bullet holes. I don't mind seeing his hand." She turned to Killian, checking to see what he thought of the nurse's words. Worry clouded his eyes. "Do you want me to close my eyes?"

Killian nodded. Emma was pretty sure he wasn't going to be watching the process either. Her suspicions were confirmed when he ducked his head against her shoulder. Emma held his head there by pressing her cheek against his ear. The room was filled with the sounds of gauze being taken off Killian's hand, his whimpered curses when the bandage pulled the healing skin. The sound of trickling water followed as his hand was dipped in saline water. The nurse told him it was looking good but Killian just snorted in response, his breath huffing out against Emma's neck. Ointment was rubbed on the burnt skin before it was rewrapped. The nurse stepped back and told them they could look now.

Emma opened her eyes and glanced at Killian's hand. A heavily padded splint now held his hand in place, his individually wrapped fingers sticking out the top, separated and able to move freely. The nurse motioned to the slightly swollen digits.

"Move them whenever you can, whatever you can. We don't know the extent of the damage yet but there will be total immobility if you let the skin harden, whether the nerves are still connected or not."

Emma nodded and thanked the nurse._ Total immobility._ She wasn't going to let that happen. Not when Killian would regret it so much later. She would get him to move._ If he even can_. The thought echoed through her mind but she tried not to pay any attention to it. She turned back to Killian's face. He was staring at the opposite wall. Emma held her hand out flat, setting it on his thigh when he didn't immediately notice her movement. He glanced up at her. Emma wiggled her fingers.

"What if they don't move, Swan?"

"Then we figure out what the next step will be. But you'll never know if you don't try." She wiggled her fingers again, inching closer to where Killian's injured hand sat.

Killian lifted his arm and held it over Emma's hand, just a few centimeters of space between their index fingers. Emma waited with baited breath, watching Killian's face instead of his hands. Killian concentrated on his hand, tongue darting out to moisten his lips as he focused. Killian cursed when he didn't immediately succeed, his face paling at the realization that he would never move his hand again. Emma placed her other hand on his shoulder and made him look up at her. She ran the hand up his jaw and cupped the stubble of his cheek.

"Come on, try again," she urged, pressing the tips of her fingers into his skin.

Killian shook his head, a look of utter devastation flitting across his eyes as he scanned the room, looking anywhere but at his hand or her face. Emma dug her fingers in harder to make him look up again.

"Do it," she told him. "For me."

Killian shut his eyes at her words but when he opened them they held more determination than they had the first time he tried to move his hand. Killian would do this for her, simply because she asked. Emma locked eyes with him so he wouldn't look at his hand, willing him to succeed. The only sound in the room was the mechanical beeping of his heart.

And then there it was. A brush, barely there, but from Killian's gasp she knew he had felt it too. Emma looked down to make sure she hadn't moved her own fingers in her desperation for some nerve to be still capable of firing in his hand. Her hand still rested against Killian's thigh but his last two fingers, his ring finger and pinkie, had dipped down and brushed across Emma's palm.

Emma leaned forward and pressed a kiss against his cheek. Her lips came away wet and she realized a tear had rolled down his cheek right before she kissed him. She shushed him and eased him back against the pillows before reclining the bed to a more comfortable resting position. The tear Killian had let slip was gone from his face but still lingered on her lips. She called out to Will because he'd been standing in the hallway for far too long and the moment between her and Killian had been just a little too intense for her to process right then.

"I did it," Killian stated, disbelief and awe colouring his voice, as Emma sat on the chair to give him the space of his bed back. Will joined them quickly, relief etched on his face when he saw that Killian had a mild smile playing across his lips.

"I know," she answered, tossing the remote for the tiny television in the corner to Will. It lit up and Will quickly flicked it to some soccer game Emma wasn't terribly interested in watching.

"I'd do anything for you," Killian murmured but by the time she had looked back at him he was already asleep and Emma wasn't sure if those were real words or dream words.


	20. Something

_A/N:_ Thanks for all the lovely reviews! They spur me on and feed my imagination! I hope you keep enjoying the story and let me know if there's any scenes you guys would like to see before the story ends and I'll see if I can make them work! You guys are so creative so I'm sure someone has something they'd like to see! I don't want it to get boring for you all!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators!

Will had left the previous afternoon but Emma stayed in the chair next to Killian's bed all through the night. She didn't want to leave him alone when he was so often plagued by nightmares she would have to physically shake him out of. At first, as soon as she'd broken him free from one and he'd gone back to sleep a new one came raging in. Eventually when the span between his dreams began to stretch after midnight, his own consciousness seemingly too wiped by the fire he kept reliving to come up with anything else, Emma was able to drift off as well. She put two chairs together and propped her feet up on one, lounging back onto the other. It wasn't a bed but at least it wasn' she was close enough that Killian would wake her if he started to thrash again.

"Hey, Emma," a voice trickled into her consciousness, rousing her from her light sleep. Emma stirred, yawning until her jaw cracked before she pushed herself upright. David and Mary Margaret were crouched in front of her, Mary Margaret's hand resting on Emma's shoulder.

"Hi," Emma replied roughly, pushing her tangled hair out of her face. It felt gross from all the time spent away from her house and wash products. She really needed a shower. Mary Margaret seemed to read her mind, pushing a small duffle bag onto her lap with a smile.

Emma opened it to reveal a change of clothes, much needed considering she was still wearing the blood stained shirt under her sweater, and toiletries. Shampoo and a comb were stuffed inside along with body wash and a toothbrush and toothpaste. In the side pocket was slices of banana bread that Mary Margaret must have made the night before.

"Thanks," Emma said, setting the bag on the floor and glancing at Killian who still slept beside her.

Mary Margaret shook her head and picked up the bag again. She pointed at the little bathroom attached to the room Killian had been placed in. There was a small shower inside it since this room was meant for people staying longer than a few nights but Emma hadn't wanted to use it and leave Killian alone, not that she had the things she needed for a proper shower before anyways.

"We're here to watch Killian. Go, relax a little, clean yourself up. If he wakes up while you're in there we'll handle it."

Emma nodded. It would be nice to have a few moments to clean herself up. She still had the grime of her tears on her face from the night Killian had first told her he loved her. She stood and moved to the bathroom, turning the small shower on to as hot as she could get it. She undressed, folding all her dirty clothes and placing them in the duffle bag. She placed the toiletries in the shower, tested the water then got in.

She took her time, scrubbing off the grime, even finding bits of dried blood from the docks soaked in to her skin from her clothing. She carefully rubbed that away with the sweet smelling body wash that Mary Margaret must have taken from her own shower since it was much fancier than Emma ever used. She washed her whole body twice until her skin glistened pink from the water's heat and the exfoliation of the scrubbed Mary Margaret had provided. She scrubbed at her scalp with her fingernails, applying a generous amount of the shampoo to her palm before lathering up her long blonde hair. Once finished she stood under the water, letting the heat relax the sore muscles of her back and shoulder from sleeping in a chair for the past two nights.

She kept her ears trained to the room, listening for any signs that Killian might be stirring or having another nightmare. She really wanted to head the nightmare off before Mary Margaret or David saw. Killian was so vulnerable, face twisted in pain and draining of all colour when they struck. It was too private for her friends to witness. All was quiet except for the murmuring of Mary Margaret and David. Emma laid her head against the slick tiles and breathed deeply.

She still couldn't figure out how everything had spiraled out of control so fast. One minute she was starting to fall for an old friend, the next she was having flashbacks of her abusive ex-boyfriend because of words her new one- was he even her boyfriend?- said to her. Then she was at the dock watching him as he nearly died, then waiting at the hospital for news and now she was here, face pressed against the shower, Killian sleeping with a hand that seemed to have only two fingers that had nerves that could receive impulses. Her life had changed so much, all because of the man she slept on plastic chairs for. It was terrifying and overwhelming because she meant it when she said she loved him even if she wasn't sure yet how she could be able to do that after Neal. None of this was what she planned but she didn't find herself fighting it as much anymore. She actually wanted to be with Killian, comfort him and reassure him because he had a long road ahead of him before he would reach a semblance of healed. But maybe, going along that recovery with him would help Emma heal her own wounds._ Maybe._

She shut off the shower, grabbed the fluffy towel from the pile of clean clothes and dried herself off. Once dry she dressed in a pair of worn boyfriend jeans and a cranberry sweatshirt, slightly faded from years of washing. It was clothing that Emma had left at Mary Margaret's house for emergencies last winter and then forgotten about it. She was very glad that Mary Margaret had found them in their spot at the back of her closet. She sighed as the soft cotton slid over her shoulder, comforting her like an old blanket. Emma slipped her sling on, glad that she only had a few more days of wearing it left, then finger combed her hair as best as she could. There wasn't much she could do much for the mats but at least it was clean and shining again.

Quickly she brushed her teeth, thanking her lucky stars that she had friends who would think of things like a toothbrush when coming to meet her at a hospital. They even watched Killian for her so she could relax for a half an hour or so when they hadn't even had to come in the first place. She wasn't sure how she deserved people like that in her life but she wouldn't fight her friends' desire to help, to make her more comfortable. She loved them too much for that. Emma closed the bag and then left the steamy bathroom.

Mary Margaret and David sat together on the chairs that Emma had used as a bed, talking quietly. Killian was still asleep; the gentle pattern of his breathing telling her that he was nightmare free, at least for now. She set the bag down and stood at the foot of the bed.

"You look much better," Mary Margaret observed.

"I feel better," Emma replied, rolling her shoulders to show the absence of stiffness. She watched Killian sleep, pleased that some colour had finally returned to his cheeks.

"Have you two made up?" Mary Margaret asked, noticing the direction of her gaze. David reached for the bag and fished out the banana bread. He handed a piece to Emma and another to his wife before biting into his own. Emma waited until everyone had settled again to answer.

Emma nodded. "I told him I loved him. Jones thought it was only because I felt bad, so I got angry but I'm hoping we've reached an agreement on the situation. I still don't know what we are," Emma admitted. "But I think we're something."

"Something, huh?" Emma turned from her friends to where Killian laid, now awake, eyebrow quirked. Emma rolled her eyes at him. Of coursehe would choose that exact moment to reveal that he wasn't actually sleeping. Emma suspected the sound of the shower had woken Killian up but he had been biding his time until he could bother her.

"Something that will walk straight out the door if you don't stop being a smart ass," Emma replied, though her words didn't hold as much of a threat as they could of. A flicker of emotion darkened Killian's eyes for a moment before he shrugged and pretended to be nonchalant about her threat. Emma instantly regretted her words, remembering Killian's belief that she was only there until she stopped pitying him.

Emma reached into the bag and grabbed another piece of the homemade loaf and handed it to him. Killian shifted so she could sit down next to him and she settled on the mattress immediately, keen to show him that she hadn't actually meant her earlier words. Killian ate while Mary Margaret and David spoke to him, David telling him about his ship and his crew mates. Killian listened intently to the news that all hands had gotten off the trawler alive and were all slated to recover. The news had him so absorbed that he didn't immediately notice Emma playing with the fingers of his injured hand.

She moved them back and forth, just the top knuckle at first, testing to see how his skin would move. She wanted to make sure his fingers stayed mobile, even if he couldn't move them himself because maybe someday he'd get sensation back in them. It was a long shot, highly unlikely a nurse had told them when Killian reported his finger movement, but Emma didn't want him to heal without trying to keep some form of tactile sensation in his digits. Killian had no sensation on any of the fingers other than the two he had moved the previous day when Emma wiggled them. Emma was pretty sure he barely felt the injured skin stretching.

Killian's chewing froze when he felt her working on his last two fingers. Emma could feel the burned muscles tighten under her touch. She kept moving the joints, trying to be inconspicuous. Killian had nothing to be embarrassed about with her friends; they had dealt with much worse with Emma's worst days. David and Mary Margaret hadn't even noticed her ministrations to his hand.

"Don't, Emma," he whispered, pulling his hand away. Emma only stopped because he used her first name. The last time he'd used it, and really, one of the only times she_ ever_ remembered him using it, even ten years ago, was when she was about to hang up on him a few days ago. Killian had sounded so broken then and his tone was worse now.

"Sorry," she murmured back, placing her hand flat on her thigh.

Killian nodded slightly and shoved the last of his banana bread into his mouth. The way his jaw set as he chewed screamed tension. Emma reached up and ran a thumb along the dark circle under his eye. Killian tilted his head under her touch, the lids on his eyes growing heavier. Emma cursed those dreams that haunted him. She just wanted him to feel better, to be able to comfort him the way he had comforted her when she was shot. But looking at his worn and pained face she felt like she was doing an absolutely shit job of it.

Someone who wasn't the nurse assigned to Killian knocked on the room door. Everyone turned towards the noise. She had a kind and observant face, brown hair pulled back in a loose ponytail. Her hazel eyes swept the room in grand arcs, missing nothing. She entered and stood at the end of the bed.

"Hi, Killian," she greeted. Emma knew the woman was noticing everything, the dark circles, strained eyes, stiff jaw, the way Emma sat next to him, shoulders brushing but stiff in posture. Emma stayed still, waiting, not wanting to give this stranger ideas. "I'm Dr. Marin and I was wondering if you wanted to come talk to me for a bit."

"Why?" Killian asked, surprised and wary.

The doctor pursed her lips for a moment, deciding what to say, before smiling again. "Honestly? It's hospital protocol you talk to a psychiatrist about what happened to you but I was hoping you'd want to talk about it anyways. You look pretty tired. I think I could help with that."

"I'm fine," Killian replied, bristling.

"You sure?" Dr. Marin asked, clearly disbelieving him.

Emma leaned over to Killian's ear. "Please go," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath. Emma was tempted to use the words_ for me_ again but she wanted Killian to want this himself. She wanted Killian to talk about the dreams to someone more qualified to deal with them. Emma could listen but she didn't know what else to do other than murmur reassure his safety and hold his uninjured hand. She hated seeing the look on Killian's face every time he woke from the fire nightmare, terrified, lost and completely drained from staving off the panic attack each dream brought.. It tore her up and she knew that what she felt was nothing as to how Killian was dealing with it. "You deserve to feel good."

"Will this make you feel good?" he asked, turning so he could lean his forehead against Emma's.

"It doesn't matter how I feel about it. Worry about yourself for a while. Do this because it will help you."

Killian searched her face, looking for some kind of conformation. Emma didn't know what he wanted to see so she just kept her face still. Emma could feel the psychiatrist's eyes on them along with Mary Margaret and David. Eventually Killian let out a huff of breath, the air spreading out across her cheeks and making her smile.

Killian pushed himself off the bed and stood to face the psychiatrist, injured hand held carefully at his side, slightly behind his leg. "Okay, I'll come on one condition."

"What?" The whole room asked at once.

Killian smirked. "Emma gets me a bear claw for breakfast."

"I'll get you two," Emma replied, laughing. Killian nodded and followed the psychiatrist out of the room, one final glance shot back at Emma. She was so relieved that Killian could joke despite everything, that he was still the man she remembered. Emma would get him as many donuts as he wanted if it meant she would see his smile again.


	21. Clean Shaven

_A/N:_ Thanks for the reviews. I know some of you said you wanted some more fluff so I tried my best! Remember to let me know if there's anything else you want to see in the upcoming chapters since this story is at least 2/3 of the way through I'd say. I hope you enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

The past several days had been hard on Killian but not as bad as at the start, pain wise. The doctor had taken him off morphine in favour of milder painkillers when Killian requested them, which wasn't often. Emma always rolled her eyes when Killian waved off the nurses and their syringes filled with the blissful relief Emma knew he so wanted, but she didn't push. Because he should have that one thing, especially since he felt so out of control of everything else. No more mobility had returned to Killian's hand but occupational therapy had begun to try and keep what he did have. The lack of change had devastated Killian but he hid it well and Emma didn't mention the stoic approach he had when awake, or the way he cried out in pain in his sleep. Most of the gauze had been removed from Killian's injuries since the burns had faded to shiny pink skin. Facing the scars he would bear for the rest of his life had been perhaps the worst thing of all for Killian. Because they were a reminder, and unlike Emma's scars he couldn't hide his.

Emma was seated at the foot of Killian's bed when Robin arrived. Killian was nearing the end of his stay, just one more night before being released so he had called his friend to bring him some supplies. Robin came in without knocking, swinging a bag around, sending a smile at Emma before glancing at Killian. He did a double take and raised his brow.

"Where is Killian Jones? All I see is Grizzly Adams," he said in a mock shocked tone. Emma glanced back towards Killian, stifling her laugh when she saw his stormy eyes. She hadn't told him that his scruff had grown into a full on beard, bordering on wild and untamed now. She didn't want to push him into anything that he could have once done with his hands, no problem. The look on his face told her she probably should have mentioned it before.

Killian ran a hand over his jaw and barely managed to disguise the disgust he felt at his appearance. "Wouldn't happen to have a razor on you would you Locksley?" he forced out.

Robin noticed the tone and regret flickered across his eyes. "No, but I'll go get you one," he said quickly before stepping out of the room.

Killian turned on Emma once Robin had left. "Why didn't you tell me I looked like this?" he gritted out.

Emma folded her legs under her before she spoke. She kept her voice even, trying to calm him with her tone. "There were other things you needed to worry about than your facial hair."

"I know it was because I only have one hand." Killian's voice was quiet and dejected.

Emma slipped further up the bed so she sat close enough to touch his hands._ Both of them._ "You have_ two_ hands, Jones. I know it doesn't feel like it now but you'll learn. Life will get easier."

"I'm going to have to relearn how to do so many things," he groaned. At occupational therapy Killian had already started learning how to button things one handed. The fine detailed movements were difficult to master all over again but Killian was working as hard as he could during the sessions. The therapist hadn't covered shaving yet, hence the beard.

"Yes. I won't try and pretend differently. But it isn't impossible."

"How did you relearn to do things?" Killian asked quietly.

Emma furrowed her brow at him, confused. She'd gotten out of the sling the day before and while her shoulder was still stiff she was fine to do things on her own. She hadn't had to relearn anything. "What do you mean?"

"After Neal. How did you learn to live again?"

"Oh," was Emma's stunned reply. She didn't have an answer for him. Not really. Not one that would make him feel better. But maybe he just wanted the truth. "I haven't. Not yet. But you learn to live with the sting. I had a flashback when I was on the phone with you before, that's why I panicked and hung up."

Killian gasped and immediately looked guilty. Emma intertwined her fingers with his. "I'm sorry Swan. I didn't know.

Emma shook her head. "I'm not telling you this to make you feel bad. I'm telling you this because even though Neal was a part of my life I can still do this-" Emma raised his burnt hand to her lips and kissed the healing skin gently, their fingers still locked together. "I can still find a way to love you, even though I'm still not positive I'm safe from Neal."

"I promise I'll keep you safe," Killian said quickly. Emma placed a light finger against his lips to quiet him. She wouldn't have him turn this around and coddle her. She was trying to make a point.

"I know, Jones. But that's not what I meant. I don't know if I'll ever shake the feeling that this is all a dream and I'll wake up in that horrible little apartment with an arm full of bruises. I don't know if I'll ever be able to hear certain phrases without remembering Neal. It's the same idea as the feelings of abandonment the system left me with. But I'm here anyways. I've learned to live with the past and even though it's still an ongoing process I haven't given up yet. You just have to find something that's going to make the pain worth it."

"What's your thing?" Killian asked, searching for something to give him some hope, something that would tell him he could learn to live with this new disability.

"For a while it was to isolate myself from anyone who could hurt me because that way no one could let me down but myself but it's- it's changing now."

"What is it now?"

Emma felt herself blush. She glanced down at their hands, still together, when she spoke. "You."

"I'm your thing? Even now."

Emma looked back up. Self-depreciation and awe fought for supremacy in his gaze. "You are still_ Killian Jones,_ no matter how many working hands you have. It's_ you_ that's healing me. Not the dexterity of your fingers."

"I'm pretty sure my fingers could still do some serious healing," Killian said, his voice dripping insinuation as he wiggled his good hand in front of her. Emma made a show of rolling her eyes and pushed him backwards a little bit. She needed a bit of space to cool the heat that curled deep in her belly from his words. Killian leaned forward again and brushed his lips across Emma's. She let him kiss her despite the panic she was fighting off at the lust she felt for him because he had made a joke about his hands that wasn't self-depreciating. The relief of that squashed everything else.

"You two are disgusting," came Robin's voice from behind them. Emma broke away, embarrassed, not willing to look at him and see how much he had actually heard. Robin thumped down on the bed beside them and held up a razor and a small can of shaving cream. "All the gift shop had. Guess you're going to have to lose everything, Grizzly Adams."

Killian looked towards Emma, as if he wanted to see if she was okay with him behind clean shaven instead of scruffy. Emma gestured towards the bathroom instead of answering either way. The scruff would grow back. She just wanted Killian to do this, to prove it to himself. Killian nodded and took the supplies, sliding off the bed and moving to the bathroom.

Robin and Emma waited on the bed, ready to help but only if asked. The bathroom door shut behind Killian and they waited, listening to the water run before turning away.

"You're doing good," Robin told her with a smile. "Jones looks good."

Emma raised an eyebrow. Killian still didn't look great. His hand had healed but he was still plagued by nightmares do he looked tired and drawn. That was going to be the longer battle, rather than healing the burned skin.

"What I mean," Robin clarified at Emma's scepticism. "Is that he could be so much worse."

"That's not exactly comforting."

Robin shrugged. "Not much about this situation is."

Emma nodded, glancing back at the closed door. "How do you think he's doing in there?" She wanted to go in there with him, to help. Killian was so quiet inside the room. What if he was struggling? The idea of him upset and locked in broke Emma's heart.

"Nothing's broken yet so I'm going to go with alright." Robin didn't seem concerned so Emma tried not to be either. Robin knew Killian better, had been closer to him longer. A pang hit Emma. She could have been that close to Killian if she hadn't run all those years ago. She would know better how to help him if she had been there before, in his other rough patches._ And Neal wouldn't be holding you back,_ that nasty part of her mind murmured._ Killian would have loved you instead._ Emma shook her head, forcing the thought away. She had made her choice and she had to live with it, whether she regretted it or not.

They waited for about ten minutes in silence. Emma was just about to force her way into the bathroom when it opened and a clean shaven Killian stepped out. The skin around his chin was a little red with razor burn but other than that he looked like the Killian she had met at their date, their reunion. Killian paused a few feet away, putting his hands out, gesturing for their opinions.

"There's Jones," Robin laughed. Killian turned to Emma, eyebrow raised.

Emma stood and moved towards him. She reached forward and ran a hand across his smooth cheek. "Nice job," she murmured, kissing him softly. She pulled back enough that just their noses were touching.

"It took a while but I did it." Killian's breath was soft on her face, the breeze his words made causing her eyes to flutter closed.

"See, that's just the first thing you'll find out that you can still do."

"I'll probably never knit though," he murmured, a small smirk flickering at the edge of his mouth.

"Well I can't either so I'm not concerned," she replied, kissing him again quickly. Robin made groaning sounds behind him. Killian pulled back and cursed him lightly.

"You want me to kick you out?" Killian asked, leading Emma back to the bed.

"Wouldn't be able to if you wanted to," Robin answered, eyebrow raised in challenge. "You know I've always been a better fighter."

Killian nodded, accepting his answer. "But I'm pretty sure Emma could kick your ass."

Robin appraised Emma, eyes lingering on the area of her shoulder where her bullet scars were hidden. From behind her she felt Killian bend down and press a kiss to her shoulder, but not where the bullets had entered. No, instead he pressed three little kisses along her scars from Neal, not that Robin would know that. Robin sent her a look of respect that paired with Killian's kisses made her feel strong, rather than weak as a touch to that spot usually made her. Robin grinned as he answered Killian, "Yeah, I'm pretty sure she could."


	22. Vienna

_A/N:_ So I passed 200 followers on the story last night and just... wow, thank you all so much! It's incredible to know that even one person is willing to read something I write, let alone having so many amazing people follow it, and even take the time out of their day to review my work. I can't thank you guys enough for the reviews! You are all such incredibly kind people! I grin like a fool every time I get an email notification. I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators. I also hold no claim to_ Vienna_ by Billy Joel or_ Wave Over Wave_ by Great Big Sea.

"Couch, Jones," Emma instructed once she'd gotten Killian in the door to her house the morning he was released from the hospital.

She had made the decision to have him stay with her until he was better the previous night, something which had shocked Killian and her friends to silence. Even though it was only for a short time, asking someone to move in with her was a step most thought Emma would never reach. And she'd done it completely of her own volition. The doctor had said Killian was capable of staying by himself, with a bit of help through the day but that hadn't been enough for Emma. She told him it was because they both could use the company since neither would be cleared to go back to work for quite some time and were both still recuperating. But honestly- it was because Killian was still having nightmares and Emma couldn't stand the thought of him being alone at his house without anyone to wake him up.

"I'm fine, Swan," Killian answered somewhat petulantly, placing his suitcase on the floor by the door. It hadn't taken that much to convince him to stay with her. Emma was pretty sure he'd sensed how big a step it was for her so hadn't wanted to risk ruining it. But Emma also hoped it was because he didn't want to be alone and that she was his preferred company. She didn't ask though, in case that wasn't the reason. "I don't have to spend my entire day on the couch." Killian stayed by the door, arms crossed. Emma didn't miss that it was his bad hand he had hidden against his chest. Even just with her he got insecure about his injury.

Emma raised an eyebrow at him and moved further into the living room. "I was suggesting the couch so we could_ finally_ finish that_ Harry Potter_ movie marathon. But I mean, if you want to do jumping jacks the entire time go right ahead." She bent to the television console and slipped the fourth movie into the DVD player. "Just make sure you don't do them in front of the TV screen."

Without looking back at Killian she sat on the couch on the middle cushion and pulled her legs up, stretching them out and wiggling her toes comfortably. She grabbed the remote and started the movie. Killian still hadn't moved so she pushed herself further into the back of the sofa, getting comfortable. As the opening credits started to roll Killian huffed and walked over.

"Scoot," he said, motioning for Emma to move her legs the other direction so he could sit beside her and lean against the opposite sofa arm. Emma just shook her head because he was trying to get her to shift so she wouldn't be beside his injured side. She patted the empty cushion firmly.

"You're standing in my way," Emma told him instead of moving from her spot. She wasn't backing down. If Killian couldn't be comfortable around her then how were they supposed to exist in a relationship where they were declaring their love and supposedly meaning it? Emma wanted to be the person Killian could be himself around, the one he didn't have to worry about. Because she was trying to let herself see him as that for her. She didn't want to be alone in that.

"Please, Swan," Killian asked, just a tinge of desperation to his voice. Emma reached forward and grasped his injured hand gently, making sure to twist her fingers around his two working fingers and gave a little tug. Killian ran his tongue across his lips, watching the spot where their hands connected. Emma gave another slight tug.

"Come on, Jones. We're going to miss Voldemort. The view of the TV isn't as good if we twist the other way. Do you want subpar viewing after we've waited so long to finally do this?" She raised a brow and smirked, trying to copy his favourite facial expression.

Eventually he sighed and sat in the open space beside Emma. "You are way too stubborn," he growled. Emma laughed at his expression, trying to look stern while the corners of his lips twitched. Killian relaxed at the sound and wound his arm around Emma's shoulders, pulling her against his chest. She wiggled until she was propped further up against him, her cheek on his chest, just below his shoulder. Killian tightened his grip and kissed the crown of her head. Emma returned the gesture but kissed his hand instead, just a light brushing of her lips against the puckered skin of his fingertips. Killian sighed at the contact.

As the movie went on Killian seemed to grow more comfortable with Emma's contact and started to run his burned hand up her arm and back down, a slow circuit that Emma wasn't even sure he was aware he was doing. In case he wasn't she didn't move. She didn't want to break what they had. Killian seemed to feel the same way and they both stayed quiet for quite some time.

"I never would have thought, ten years ago, that I'd be doing this now," Killian murmured a while later once the fifth movie was almost finished. Emma shifted so she could look up at him. A look of disbelief was playing over his features.

"Doing what?" Emma asked as his arm tightened around her.

"Sitting here with Emma Swan and being able to do this." Killian kissed the top of her head. "I was sure I'd never see you again when you left."

Emma sat up, pulling away slightly, feeling ashamed at her past behaviours. "I'm sorry I left, Jones."

"No," Killian corrected. "You did what you had to do then. You didn't have an easy life and you were trying to keep it as easy as you could."

"I was scared."

"I know." Killian rewound his arm around Emma and pulled her back against him, sinking them further against the couch. That was the last they spoke before the end of movie eight. It was as if neither one of them wanted to jinx actually being able to finish all the movies, finally, after going through ten years apart, a gunshot wound and a burnt hand. Emma breathed a sigh of relief as the credits rolled on_ The Deathly Hallows, Part 2_ later that night, because they had done it. The fourteen year old best friends had finally found each other again and finished what they had started. Emma was filled with a sense of accomplishment as she pushed herself off the couch and moved to the kitchen, her stomach growling.

It was well past supper time but the movie marathon had held them captive. Neither was going to do anything to risk leaving it unfinished, even if that meant going hungry for a while. Emma set to work in the kitchen, filling a pot with water and setting it to boil before moving to the fridge to root out some peppers and mushrooms. Having practically lived at the hospital for the last little while her food stocks had gotten rather low. Until she got to the grocery store they'd have to settle for lots of carbs, since pasta seemed to be the only thing she had a plentiful amount of.

Sock covered feet padded into the kitchen behind her and she looked up when they stopped. Killian leaned against the doorframe, watching, a thoughtful purse to his mouth. Emma put down the knife she'd been using when he entered, one hand moving the knife, the other holding a yellow pepper against the cutting board.

"Do you think I could help, love?" he asked, waiting tone unsure. His blue eyes flickered towards his hand but before he could say anything else Emma nodded and handed him a wooden spoon.

"Sautee the vegetables. I'm going to go find stuff to make a sauce." Killian took the spoon in his bad hand, pinched in the space between his thumb and forefinger and held against his palm with his two good fingers. He used his good hand to pick up the cutting board and dump the vegetables in the oiled pan Emma set out, only spilling a few pieces onto the floor. Emma smiled, unbelievably proud, but didn't say anything because he needed to realize his disability wasn't a big deal to Emma. Instead of commenting on his work she ducked into the bottom level of the cupboards, looking for some pasta sauce.

"What are we actually having?" Killian asked as he transferred the spoon to his good hand to manoeuvre around the pan.

"Pasta. You okay with that?"

"I'd be okay with just about anything now," Killian replied then grinned when his stomach growled.

"Sorry," Emma apologized as she dumped the bottle of sauce into the pan to simmer with the vegetables. "I'm not a very good host am I?"

Killian caught her wrist and kissed it. "I didn't want to move either, Swan." Emma pulled her hand away and poured some pasta into the boiling water. She leaned against the counter to wait for everything to finish cooking.

Killian moved behind her, set something on the counter and then the kitchen swelled with music from his cellphone._ Wave Over Wave_, a Great Big Sea song, filled the small room. Killian grasped her wrist and pulled her towards him, a smile lighting up his face.

"Come on, Swan, let's dance." Killian gestured to the space between the counters of her galley-style kitchen grandly, as if it was the fanciest dance floor in the world.

Emma froze. She didn't want to dance. She_ didn't_ dance. Not since college. She hadn't even danced at Mary Margaret and David's wedding, despite David asking for her to dance with him. Just the thought of dancing with someone made her want to be sick. "No, I'm good," she said, trying to keep the panic down and hidden from Killian. She shook her arm from his grasp.

Killian seemed to mistake her panic for shyness and stepped forward, holding her waist and pulling her against his strong body. His bad hand circled around her waist and his good hand held her own up in a waltzing position. "Dance with me." When he took the first step backwards everything she'd been trying to force away moments earlier came back in a rush.

_"What's a pretty girl like you doing over here?" a guy with shaggy brown hair asked, leaning up against the bar next to Emma. She'd never met him before but he was handsome and the way his eyes appraised her made her stomach clench. She'd never had someone so interested in her since- no, she wouldn't think of that tonight. With that memory pushed away she regarded this man, a man who was watching her as if he actually_ wanted_ her._

_"Just observing," Emma answered, trying to hide the blush that climbed up her cheeks at his gaze. It was almost animalistic, almost possessive. She moved her head in time with the music, watching as Mary Margaret and David danced a few feet away. Her friend was grinning at David, an outpouring of love coming from her smile. Emma wanted that with someone she realized with a pang of jealousy. She turned back to the mystery man._

_"Well how about you dance with me?" Before she could answer the man had her by the hand, grip tight so she couldn't slip out and towed her to the packed dance floor. Emma didn't think about much more that night, instead revelling in the compliments the man sent her way, how he asked repeatedly when he could see her again. It had been one of the only times she had ever felt wanted in her life. It had also been the first time she met Neal._

She broke away from Killian, falling to her knees and skittered away from Killian's feet. She pushed her body against the cupboard door until the metal handle bit into her back painfully. She needed to get away, to find somewhere where the memory of Neal's face wouldn't get to her. Killian crashed down in front of her after flicking off the music but kept a safe distance.

Tears streamed through the fingers Emma had used to cover her face and dripped onto the floor, her uninjured arm braced in front of her as if to ward of a hit. Her whole body was shaking with both the memory and the knowledge that Killian was seeing her like this, stuck between the present and a flashback.

"Hey, Swan," Killian cooed, his voice gentle but concerned. "I'm going to come closer now." Emma whimpered a bit and Killian replied with hushing noises. "It's me, Emma. It's Killian. I won't hurt you." His hand grasped Emma's arm and pulled it down from its defensive position. "I'm sorry. I didn't realize you still faced this kind of calibre of flashbacks and that dancing would trigger it." Killian's voice was thick with emotion.

Emma took a deep breath and forced herself to focus on her surroundings. She was in her kitchen,_ her_ kitchen, not the one she shared with Neal. She wasn't at that university bar. She was in her own space where no one was going to hurt her. And it hadn't been Neal trying to dance with her. It had been Killian._ Killian._

She pulled her fingers from her face. Killian sat in front of her, face pale and concerned, mouth downturned. A gentle smile pushed his lips up when he realized Emma was looking at him. Killian raised his arms in invitation but didn't touch her. She moved forwards and fell into his arms. Killian stroked her back as Emma cried into his shoulder.

After a few minutes Emma pulled back and stood, moving towards the overcooked pasta. She turned the stove off and braced herself, inhaling deeply. Killian's arms had done much to drive away the images of Neal. She had to remember that she trusted Killian, that he would never hurt her. Killian_ wasn't_ Neal.

"It should still be edible," Killian said lightly when he joined her at the stove. Emma nodded and ran a hand through her hair, thoughts spinning. She put a hand on Killian's wrist when he went to grab the pot of pasta, stopping him.

"Wait," she told him, pulling out her own phone. She quickly scrolled through it and the kitchen was once again filled with music, this time_ Vienna_ by Billy Joel. She set the phone on the counter beside Killian's.

"Dance with me, Jones," she told him quietly. Killian appraised her for a few moments, making sure she could do this without passing out. But he trusted her instincts and she had asked for the dance. Killian resumed the waltz position he had previously been trying to get Emma to match. Emma stepped into his arms, taking his hand in hers, her other hand going to his shoulder.

"Ready?" he asked. Emma nodded, laying her head against his chest. Killian stepped backwards and started to sway them around. Two fingers rubbed a soothing pattern against her back, slipping under her sweater to touch her skin directly. Emma shuddered at the touch of the roughly healed skin and pressed her lips against his shoulder.

_Slow down you're doing fine._

Killian spun them around, drawing a breathless laugh from Emma. The arm around her back tightened again when they resumed their swaying.

_You can't be everything you want before your time._

Killian hummed the tune in her ear. In his arms she felt safe. Killian had taken her by surprise before and the suddenness had been what brought on the memory. But swaying with him gently now she felt loved. Killian didn't look at her possessively like Neal had during their first meeting at the dance party. Killian looked at her with reverence and respect for the strength she had to stand up and try again. He looked at her with love.

_When will you realize… Vienna waits for you._

As the music ended they drew apart. They moved to the counter together and finished their slightly overdone supper, plating it so they could go back to the couch to eat. The activity was so domestic that it made Emma smile. Because not only had she finally been able to dance again that night but she'd also found someone to be domestic with, someone who actually_ wanted_ to share a space with her instead of being forced to because of the foster care system. And for Emma, who had been positive of nothing other than her inability to experience such a thing for many years, it was pretty amazing feeling. It made her feel as if she'd maybe,_ finally,_ found her own Vienna.


	23. Nightmare

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

"Come on, Jones, you're tired, I'm tired, go to bed." Emma stood in front of him, hands on her hips. She was trying to convince him to sleep in her bed while she had the couch. After her flashback that evening she wasn't ready to_ share_ her bed, even with Killian. But she'd loan it out to him since he needed rest more than she did.

"It's your bed, Swan. I'm not taking it." Killian sat on the couch in front of her, defiant despite the slipping shut of his eyelids. It was past midnight, the two having spent the night watching corny television shows. Emma knew Killian was scared of setting her off again so was avoiding anything that he thought might cause a flashback. She appreciated the gesture, the care he was showing. It didn't make her feel weak as it normally would. Because Killian wasn't trying to convince her that she was okay, that nothing was wrong. Killian just accepted Emma's past and made sure she knew it was okay if she wasn't_ okay_, held her when she needed it and tried to create a safe environment for her.

"Which means I can decide what I want to do with it, since it is_ my_ bed," she replied, just as determined to get her way. "Look, Mary Margaret will be here at like eight tomorrow morning to practice since the studio's closed. I don't want her waking you up. Please?" she reached out for his hand.

Killian sighed and grasped it. "You're lucky I'm too tired to argue anymore."

"You wouldn't have won anyways," Emma replied with a smug smile. She pulled him up and led him to her bedroom, stopping just outside the door. She gave him a little push into the room but stayed outside. She wasn't ready to go inside, even though neither was expecting anything. It was just a little too much for her right then.

Killian didn't try to pull her in with him; instead he let their clasped hands drop with an understanding nod. Before he stepped back he placed a quick kiss on her lips. "Night, Swan. Sleep tight."

"Don't let the bed bugs bite," she finished then pulled the door closed, leaving her alone and watching the white door. Killian didn't move on the other side of it for a long moment so neither did she.

Once his quiet footsteps moved away and further into the room she walked down the hall to her small laundry room. She had forgotten to get her things out of the bedroom before she led Killian to it and didn't want to go back and bother him. She rooted through the basket of clean clothes that had been sitting in the room, unfolded, since Killian's injury and pulled out a pair of pajama shorts and a big t-shirt. She dressed in the room, swinging the door shut to give her some privacy in case Killian left the bedroom while she was changing. On her way back to the living room Emma grabbed some extra bed sheets and a blanket from the hallway linen closet.

She made the couch into a bed and slipped beneath the covers. All is quiet in the house so she assumed Killian had already gone to sleep. Even though she wasn't sharing a bed with Killian it was nice to know that he was nearby. Emma buried herself in the sofa and drifted off.

A terrible screaming woke her some time later. It was high and keening, as if the person was in horrible pain. The screaming was definitely male and it broke occasionally, which made Emma wonder how long the person had been screaming before it woke her. It took Emma a moment to remember that she wasn't alone and that Killian was with her._ Killian._ At the memory of him in her bedroom she threw herself into a standing position and sprinted up the hall.

Emma opened the door to her bedroom a crack and peered in. Even though the room was dark she could see Killian thrashing in the sheets, face contorted into a painful grimace. The sheets were knotted around his limbs but did little to keep his arms against the mattress. Killian clawed at the air, as if he were trying to reach something. A scream tore through the room again making Emma flinch. She'd woken Killian up from many nightmares since the accident but never one of this intensity. This one scared her.

Emma crept forward, not wanting to startle him and cause further distress. When she reached the bed she grasped his shoulder and shook it lightly. "Jones, come on," she cooed. "Wake up, Jones." Killian didn't wake and Emma had to reach out and grab his injured arm to keep him from hurting it further as it moved around erratically. "You're safe, Killian. I'm here," she told him as she slipped onto the bed beside him. It never took this long for her to pull him from his dreams and that broke her heart. She braced his arms against her chest, keeping him still and called his name again, this time much louder.

Killian bolted upright with a final scream, head moving wildly. Finally he focused on Emma and dove at her, throwing his arms around her body and tugging her close to his heaving chest. Killian buried his head in the crook of Emma's neck, his face covered by her long hair. Emma watched as his shoulders began to shake and he cried into her skin. Emma ran a hand over his back and whispered reassurances into his ear. She wished she could do more but she didn't know what else to do other than hold him.

When Killian stopped shaking enough to control his own muscles again he pulled back. Emma reached up and wiped the tear marks from his face with her thumbs. Killian was blushing, obviously embarrassed at the show of emotion but seemed too tired to properly care.

"Tell me what happened," Emma said quietly. She reached behind her to the bottle of lotion on the bedside table and put a few pumps into her palm. With her other hand she grabbed Killian's injured one and started to rub the lotion on the burned skin, making sure to concentrate on the split skin of his knuckles. Killian was supposed to do that multiple times a day to keep the elasticity of his skin but Emma knew he didn't and she also knew he wouldn't really realize she was doing it in his state.

"It was different this time," Killian started. Emma nodded for him to continue and rubbed a dollop of moisturizer on a dry patch at the side of his wrist. She knew what his other dreams were. They never changed. She was curious to see what his haunting nightmares had morphed into. "It wasn't Will in the engine room."

It had always been Will before. The dreams played out as the event had happened, always ending with Killian pinned in the engine room before Emma shook him out of the nightmare. The flashbacks had always been about his own injuries, and experiences, something the psychiatrist had told him was common. Emma was used to flashbacks though, she could handle his. But this wasn't a flashback. She wasn't sure what to do about this nightmare.

Emma stayed quiet, waiting for him to continue. She worked over his knuckles, moving them in circles to take advantage of his hydrated skin and the increased elasticity of it. Killian watched her rub his injured hand for a few long moments before opening his mouth and drawing a shuddering breath. "It was you."

Emma's eyes flashed up to him. It was her? Killian was screaming bloody murder because of her? Emma knew he loved her, she'd heard him say it enough to accept it, but she hadn't expected him to feel that strongly about her, to sound like he was dying because of a nightmare about her.

"I couldn't get to you," Killian moaned, pulling Emma tighter against his side. Emma ran a hand through his hair, making soothing noises as she scratched lightly at his scalp. "The flames were in front of me and I tried to go through them but they burned too bad. I tried to keep going but the pipe fell on me and pinned me down. You just stood there, screaming that I had let you down like Neal, that I was abandoning you. And then the flames got you."

"I'm here, Killian. Nothing happened to me," she murmured against his ear. "You didn't let me down." Emma stood and ran a hand over his stubbled cheek. She straightened the blankets and pushed the fitted sheet back over the corner of the mattress where it had pulled up as Killian thrashed. Once the bed was organized she pushed down on Killian's shoulders so that he sunk back into the mattress. Emma pulled the bed sheets up over him because she felt like he could use the comfort of being surrounded by the soft fabric, even though he had sweated through his pajamas. Once she got him covered she slipped in beside him.

She wasn't really sure why she did it, especially since that evening she had decided that she was_ not_ ready to share a bed with him, but she felt satisfied with her decision. Killian needed her. His eyes still held the frantic look he had worn when she first woke him up. Emma knew what it was like to be left alone after a nightmare. She knew what it was like to wake up alone and then have to deal with the frightening images by herself. She knew how painful and scary that could be. Killian didn't need that to deal with after everything else.

Emma slid her arm under his head and pulled him over so his cheek rested on the edge of her shoulder. She moved her head a few inches and kissed him lightly on his hairline.

"Go to sleep, Jones. Nothing's going to happen to you." Killian turned his face against her skin and kissed her in return.

Emma rubbed Killian's arms until his breathing regulated to his sleeping pattern, not really sure what else to say to him. Once everything was quiet she let her own eyes droop until the warmth of Killian's body finally pulled her under.

Emma woke before Killian the next morning when she heard the front door close after Mary Margaret. Killian's face was next to hers and he slept on, undisturbed by the sounds of Mary Margaret moving around the kitchen. Emma slid out from under the covers, careful not to wake him and pulled the sheets back up until they sat just below his chin. Killian sighed at the added warmth but didn't open his eyes.

Emma grabbed a sweater from the laundry room as the house had cooled through the night and went in search of her friend. As expected Mary Margaret was still in the kitchen, brewing a fresh pot of coffee. She turned when Emma entered, her practice skirt fluttering out around her hips as she moved. Mary Margaret shot Emma a look as she poured some coffee in a mug that told Emma her friend knew exactly where she had been, and with whom.

Emma accepted the mug from Mary Margaret and moved to fix it up while she waited for the inevitable questions. She let the ceramic of the cup warm her fingers; the removal of the warmth of Killian's body from next to her had left her chilled.

"Did you sleep with him?" Mary Margaret asked as she sipped at her own cup. Emma shook her head. "Why not?" she asked, clearly confused. She knew how the two felt about each other and that they had spent the night together, in the same house and_ nothing_ happened?

"Because he saw me have a flashback." Emma only told Mary Margaret because Mary Margaret had witnessed several of Emma's flashbacks, first hand. The first one being when Emma was asked to sit on a wooden chair for the first time after she was attacked, almost exactly like the one she had been hit with. It had been in a class and Emma had taken off, collapsing and hyperventilating in the nearest bathroom. Mary Margaret had chased her down and held her until the shaking subsided.

"What did he do?" Mary Margaret asked gently.

"He took it really well," Emma answered, not really wanting to go into specifics. "I just didn't feel like doing anything after. I actually was supposed to sleep on the couch."

"And yet you were in your room with Killian this morning?"

"Jones had a nightmare. Worst one yet."

"And you comforted him?" Mary Margaret was smiling wildly at Emma, as if she was unbelievably proud that her friend had been able to offer such support, especially after her own anxieties were triggered earlier that night.

"I tried," Emma answered, sheepishly, ducking away to hide her blush. She'd done what she had to do to make Killian feel better. She didn't need Mary Margaret making a big deal out of it. Emma moved to the living room and planted herself on the couch, officially ending that direction of the conversation.

Mary Margaret gave her an understanding smile, set down her mug then moved to put on her pointe shoes. Emma sipped at her coffee while she watched the ballerina practice, twirling around her living room, Tchaikovsky playing in the background. At least Mary Margaret kept the volume down this time, guessing that Killian would need his sleep after such a trying night.

About a half an hour into Mary Margaret's practice Emma heard the bedroom door open and shut and Killian appeared from the hallway. The dark circles under his eyes weren't as bad as Emma had expected and when he found the two women he smiled, something which was an even bigger relief to Emma. Killian leaned against the living room wall, yawning into his good hand, until the song ended and he could walk by Mary Margaret without risking getting kicked or jumped on.

Killian move towards Emma after nodding a hello to Mary Margaret who started up her dancing again as a new song began. He sunk down next to Emma and she turned to him, appraising his face.

"You doing okay?" she asked quietly.

Killian nodded, setting his head against the back of the sofa. "I'm sorry I woke you."

Emma reached forward and stopped the ashamed shaking of his head with a hand to his chin. "I'm glad I heard you and woke you. You scared me, Jones."

"Me too," Killian murmured before standing and slipping to the kitchen for his own mug of coffee. When he returned he looked cheerier, as if he'd shaken off the last remnants of his dream while pouring the caffeine. "What are your plans for today?" Killian asked as he sat again.

"Grocery shopping," Emma replied. "Unless you want to eat exclusively pasta for the remainder of your stay."

Killian mock shuddered. "Then you should go grocery shopping."

"You don't want to come too?" Emma asked, hiding the hurt she felt. She wanted him to want to be with her, even doing something as mundane as grocery shopping. She wasn't ready to let go of the domestic feeling she had finally found the previous night.

But then Emma caught the flicker of his gaze from her face to his scared hand. Wearing a t-shirt as he was then, the burned skin and patchy scars that sporadically marred his forearm along with the destroyed hand, three digits completely unmoving, held constantly at a slightly curved angle, was painfully evident. Emma immediately felt bad for being hurt at his supposed slight. Killian's reluctance to go out in public had nothing to do with her.

Emma leaned in closer so Killian could hear her over the symphony blaring out the speakers while still keeping her voice low enough that Mary Margaret wouldn't be able to hear. Killian's insecurities were just too private, even for her best friend to hear.

"I'll have none of that, Killian Jones," she told him firmly, grasping his scarred hand.

"Emma," Killian started, his voice cautioning. Emma ignored his tone.

"Trust me, Jones; people aren't going to be looking at your hand." She pointedly ran a finger across his cheek, slow enough to make sure that he caught on to her meaning. A little push to his ego would get her far, she knew that. Killian smirked at her as she removed her finger from his skin. "I need you to come and reach the high items for mem."

While Killian's voice wasn't as sure as it usually was, at least it wasn't terrified sounding when he finally spoke. "Well, how can I deprive my favourite girl of items on the high shelves?"


	24. Grocery Shopping

A/N: I've got one last fluffy chapter planned before the last section of this story! I don't want to drag it out too long and bore you all! But if there's something that you desperately want to see, let me know because everything isn't set in stone yet and still has to be written! Thanks for the lovely reviews, favourites and follows! You guys are awesome!

Emma waited on the sofa for Killian to finish his shower. She'd already had hers, and now sat with her wet hair piled in a braid around the top of her head. Mary Margaret was going to stick around for a while at the house and practice in private while Killian and Emma sent grocery shopping but while she waited for them to leave she sat beside Emma, taking a break. Emma compiled a list of things she'd need to get in her head, not really one for paper lists, while Mary Margaret panted beside her, a thin sheen of sweat on her forehead.

A few minutes later, Killian appeared wearing his hunter orange beanie, the ends of his hair sticking out from the hat in a slightly dishevelled fashion from where he had towel dried it. Killian wore worn jeans, faded in a way that made Emma suspect he had worn them on the boat until the salt spray had beaten the cotton to a comfort level that rivalled one's favourite t-shirt. The sleeve of his black Henley was stretched down as far as it would go, covering his bad hand. Emma pushed herself up from the sofa, grabbed her bag and moved towards him. She reached out and grasped the hand he was trying to hide, sliding up the sleeve.

"Swan, don't," he cautioned, trying to pull away. She threaded her hand through his tighter and held their entangled fingers up. The scars on his fingers showed up in stark contrast to the smooth skin of Emma's own hand. She ran her pinky finger along Killian's while she held his hand, knowing that if she touched almost anywhere else along the burned skin he wouldn't feel it and that would frustrate him more. The way Killian's lips parted, just enough to exhale a small sigh, told Emma that he had felt her caress.

"This is you. I want to go grocery shopping with_ you._ Now let's go." Emma tugged Killian out the door before he could argue. She didn't let go of his stiff hand until they had reached her car in the driveway.

She slipped into the driver's seat of her car, leaning over the center console to unlock the passenger side for Killian. Killian got in and started fiddling nervously with the edge of his sleeve but he didn't pull it down from the position Emma had left it in. This trip was going to be Killian's first in public since the accident, the first time he was going to have to face the stares of strangers. Emma wished she could hide it all from him, to protect him from the people who would comment to their friends when they thought he couldn't hear, from those who would ask him what happened, not out of concern for his health but because they wanted to know what could leave a person so scarred. But she couldn't and he had to get used to being around people again. All she could do was stay with him and hold his hand when things got too overwhelming.

"You're going to be fine," Emma told him as she pulled into the parking lot of the local supermarket. Killian glanced over at her and gave a shaky sort of snort as response. Emma unbuckled so she could turn to him fully. "You trust me right?" she asked, watching his eyes for his real response.

"Yes, love," Killian murmured in return and while his voice didn't hold the conviction Emma was looking for, his eyes did. She nodded firmly.

"Then let's go." Emma got out of the car before Killian did and hurried around to his side so she was there to meet him when he reluctantly swung the door open and got out. Emma led him towards the store, fully aware that Killian was scanning the parking lot for people the entire time. As they neared the doors, and the crowds grew larger, Emma felt a tug on her hand. She glanced down to see Killian's pinky finger curled around her own. She shifted in the grip so her other fingers could slide in between Killian's unmoving ones. Emma swung their hands a bit as they entered the store, showing Killian how firmly she had him in her grasp, even if he couldn't feel it. That earned her a little smile.

Emma let go of Killian's hand and pulled out a grocery cart. She swung it around, careful not to hit the lady entering the store. Though, when she saw how the lady noticed Killian's hand hanging lifelessly at his side and made a face, Emma wanted to run her over, or maybe flog her with the nearby pile of tomatoes. Emma shot her a death glare then pushed the cart until it was in front of Killian.

"You think you can push it?" Killian licked his bottom lip before nodding. Emma let go of the cart and moved aside. Killian set his bad hand on the handle first, moving his stiff fingers with his good hand so they would hold on to the pole. Once he'd gotten his hand situated he grabbed the handle with his good hand as well and gave the cart a little test-push.

"Did that hurt?" Emma asked, ready to take back the cart if the hard plastic handle was pushing too hard on his healing skin.

"No, I'm good, lass." Killian pushed the cart ahead of them and Emma had to take a few hurried steps to catch up.

Together they moved through the produce section, stocking up. Killian stiffened every time someone got too close to him, whether they noticed the injury or not. Each time his back straightened and his good hand clenched the cart handle until his knuckles were white Emma would return to his side and whisper a reassurance to him or brush up against his arm, just something to remind him that she was there.

Emma set a loaf of bread in the cart and glanced back at Killian as he maneuvered the cart flawlessly around a corner. He caught her eye and smirked, clearly pleased with himself. Emma rolled her eyes good naturedly back at him. This was how things were supposed to be for them; living happy, normal and content lives together. Maybe it was the weird fluorescent lighting of the meat section or maybe it was the way Killian would relax as soon as Emma brushed a hand across his back but whatever it was it made Emma sure as to where she was supposed to be. And_ who_ she was supposed to be with.

Once they finished getting all the food products they made a pit stop at the pharmacy section of the supermarket. The lotion Emma had for Killian's hand was scented like sweet almonds and Killian, after promising Emma that he was actually going to take care of his hand, had mentioned that he wasn't big on the girly scent. Emma had teased him about that but in truth she was just glad that he actually wanted to take care of himself. Emma was pretty sure it was because of how well the shopping trip had gone. People had stared occasionally but no one had been exceedingly rude. Everyone backed down when Emma glared at them.

The only problem they encountered the entire trip was when they were trying to decide whether they would need to take the cart out to the parking lot or if they could carry all the bags themselves. The cashier had done a good job packing so under normal circumstances, as Emma and Killian were both strong people; they would have been able to carry everything out themselves and leave the cart inside.

Killian's hand couldn't support the weight of the bags though. The destroyed nerves wouldn't allow for the muscles to stay in one position when too much weight was added so every time he folded his hand as best as he could around the handle of the bag his fingers would return to their stiff position, unable to maintain any other position of muscle rigor. After Killian dropped a bag the second time trying to position it in his palm he cursed and pushed the bag away from him, disgusted.

The poor cashier jumped at the violent display of emotion from Killian, who had been all but silent during the transaction. Emma closed the gap between them, rounding the checkout and grabbed his bad hand.

"Shush," she murmured, pulling him towards her in an attempt to lessen the scene. The more people who noticed them, the more people who would notice Killian's hand and the more upset he would become. "We'll take the cart, it's okay."

"It's not okay, Swan," Killian replied sounding absolutely devastated. Emma waited for him to go on, suspecting this was about more than just his inability to carry a few bags of groceries. "If I can't lift a bloody bag of onions how am I supposed to work on a ship? How do I go back to work when I can't do the work?"

Emma took a moment to digest what he had said before reaching up and tapping the side of his head, just below the rim of his beanie. "Killian Jones, you are first and foremost a marine biologist. The fire hurt your hand not your head. That's what's important. You might not be able to throw around coils of rope anymore but you can still count your fish and make those weird maps on your computer."

"They're charts of species populations actually," Killian answered sheepishly.

Emma smirked back at him. "See? You can still do that. Find a new boat that doesn't make you work like a dog before you collect data. Look, I'll help you find a spot when the spring comes and you're healthy enough to go back out on the water. Maybe Graham can talk to the coast guard and we can get you on one of their patrol vessels, like the big ones."

Killian nodded and a light that had been missing from his glacier blue eyes flared. "Thank you." Killian dipped his head and kissed Emma's lips lightly.

"Anytime, Jones." Emma turned from Killian, ignoring the awkward blush the young cashier wore from witnessing their private moment, and started to load up the cart. Eventually, Killian started to help, once he'd properly digested the information Emma gave him, and soon the two of them had the cart filled with bags and were off to the car.

As Emma helped Killian put the bags into the trunk of her car she noticed that his bad hand was perfectly in view, just as Emma had left it after pushing up the sleeve at her house. He hadn't once tried to cover it around the other people. He hadn't once tried to hide.


	25. Thanksgiving

_A/N:_ So here's a bit of a monster of a chapter that I'm actually both really excited and REALLY nervous for you all to read. Because it's got a bit of stuff in it that I've never done before. In this chapter there's a bit of sexy times but I really don't think it's explicit. If you don't want to read that part, because I'm sure some of you don't I've separated it by *s so just skip that part. I hope it's alright as this was my first attempt at that ever. Thanks for the reviews, follows and favourites! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

Emma slid under the covers of her bed with a tired sigh. Killian sat on top of the covers beside her, rubbing lotion into his scarred skin with a determined focus. Emma watched him for a while as he rubbed the space where his nails should have been- he had actually lost his middle three because of the severity of the burns, so was waiting and hoping they would grow back. The way he worked was almost mesmerizing, the fingers of his good hand nimble and sure as they guided the stiff parts of his other hand in the routine to retain skin elasticity. Emma getting into bed while Killian took care of his hand had become a routine over the past two weeks.

Neither of them really discussed their living arrangements. Killian was fine to live on his own now, the frequency of his nightmares decreasing with each passing night, but he still made no move to go back to his place. And Emma didn't either. After the first night when sleeping in the same bed had happened out of necessity, each night it became easier to fall asleep with Killian beside her and trust him to keep her safe. She liked going to bed and knowing that Killian would be there, that she could frustrate him by sticking her cold toes against his calf and making him jump, that his light snores would tell her that he wasn't being pulled in by a nightmare. She liked knowing that even though they'd fall asleep on their separate sides of the bed she would always wake up with Killian's arms wrapped around her waist and one of his knees pushed between her legs as he pulled her as close to him as possible. She liked knowing that she wasn't alone.

Killian hadn't_ moved in._ Staying at Emma's wasn't anything official since they hadn't actually talked about it but they went with it because it was natural, and comfortable. Emma didn't really see a point in either of them living alone when neither was cleared for work yet so spent the days together anyways. Slowly, over the past two weeks more and more of Killian's clothing had ended up in a pile in the corner of Emma's room. She wasn't ready to give him a_ drawer_ yet but she could handle the Mount Vesuvius of men's clothing on her floor.

Killian set his bottle of lotion on the bedside table next to Emma's own and rolled under the covers. The baby powder smell of the cream wafted over the bed as he turned on his side to face her, head propped up under his arm.

Emma stayed facing the ceiling. There was something she needed to ask him and it made her nervous. She'd never done such a thing before, hadn't even been able to comprehend that such an activity was possible for someone like her. And yet here she was, her_ boyfriend_- yes, she'd finally started to call him that without internally flinching- right beside her as they prepared to go to bed, like your_ everyday normal_ couple.

"Jones?" Emma started, waiting for his response. When Killian hummed as a reply she took a deep breath and dove in, focusing on a tiny brown mark on the ceiling from where she'd killed a plaster mite a while ago. She didn't want to look at his face in case she saw something there she didn't want to see. "So, Thanksgiving is coming up."

"Aye, I am aware that specific holiday occurs next week." Killian's tone was amused. It was obvious that he'd picked up on Emma's nervousness. "What about it?"

"Well, I don't know what you do for it, but Mary Margaret and David come here and we have dinner together. Ruby comes sometimes but it just depends on how busy her family's restaurant is. If you wanted to come, you can, but you don't need to if you don't want to. I'm not making you. I just thought I'd offer-" Killian stopped Emma's self-conscious stream of speaking by placing a quick kiss against her rapidly moving lips.

"I usually spend the holiday with Robin since Jefferson takes his daughter to her grandparents place. The two of us break into Jeff's place later that night and eat whatever he takes home from Thanksgiving dinner. Neither one of us are big on cooking an entire meal for just the two of us."

"Well, if you want to spend the day with Robin, that's cool," Emma replied quickly. Of course he wouldn't want to spend the day with her. Emma wasn't experienced in asking someone to a family- or friend in her case- dinner. She'd actually never done it before. Automatically she began to assume that's she'd done it wrong. Her thoughts began to whirl- did she ask too soon? Was she supposed to wait until they had dated for longer? She'd never had anyone do such a thing for her either to help her knowledge base. Neal just left her for the holiday weekend at college when they dated, not even mentioning anything about a dinner and Mary Margaret and David were already together when they started the tradition with Emma.

"Swan, did you just ask me if I'd rather spend the day with Robin- my obnoxious friend- or you, the love of my life?"

Emma blushed furiously and rolled away from Killian, pressing her face against the pillow to hide the red hue of her cheeks. It still caught her off guard how forward Killian could be with his emotions. "Maybe," Emma mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow.

Killian laughed and rolled her back towards him. A smirk pulled up the side of his face. "I'd love to celebrate Thanksgiving with you all," Killian told her sincerely, despite the twinge of amused laughter colouring his voice.

"You can bring Robin if you like," Emma told him quickly. The idea of Robin, who counted on Killian for plans for the holiday, being left alone so Killian could spend the day with her wasn't right. Emma didn't want anybody left alone on a day that was supposed to be about appreciating family and one's blessings. She'd spent too many alone herself.

"I'm sure he'd love that, Swan," Killian replied. "I'll call him tomorrow. But for now, relax," Killian grabbed her waist and pulled her over the cotton sheets until she rested flush against his chest. Grinning, Killian peppered the side of her face with kisses, trying to get her to relax her stiff muscles. After about the tenth kiss Emma smiled and pressed her face against Killian's firm chest. His strong arms tightened around her, filling her with a secure feeling. She fell asleep like that.

The week leading up to Thanksgiving passed in a blur. Grocery shopping had to be done and Killian had several doctor's appointments to check on his progress. Those meetings had gone well, with the doctor deciding that although the major motor neurons had been severed when the pipe fell on his hand and were unlikely to regrow, Killian might get some feedback again from the sensory neurons in his palm with time, a spot which he currently could only feel along the far edge. Emma knew Killian was trying not to get his hopes up because the improvement was not guaranteed but she also knew he wasn't succeeding at that when he let slip how wonderful it would be for him to be able to feel Emma's hand more concretely when she held his. Each day there was something to do so Emma was relieved when Thursday rolled around and all she had to do was help get ready for dinner.

Emma hummed comfortably as she woke Thursday morning. Killian had managed to go the whole night without a nightmare so she had slept through the night without waking to shake him from the images of fear that normally haunted him. Emma stretched, relishing the popping of her stiff joints and the relief that it brought. She glanced over to the other side of the bed where Killian slept on, looking quite at peace.

Killian must have felt her shifting because he opened one eye lazily then the next, smiling when he noticed her awake. A hand reached out and clasped hers, giving a slight tug. Emma shifted over in the bed so she was lying against his side. Killian began placing soft kisses up her jaw, stopping the warm presses of his mouth to her rapidly heating skin just below her ear so he could suck her earlobe into his mouth. Emma whimpered a bit at how the sensation conflicted with her sleep deadened senses, instantly waking her. Killian bit down, just enough to draw another whimper from Emma, before pushing himself up onto his elbows and moving to hover over her.

Killian dipped a bit and pressed his lips against Emma's. She angled her head to allow him better access; opening her mouth when he flicked his tongue against her bottom lip. She's not sure where all this was coming from, it wasn't even ten in the morning for crying out loud and they'd never done this before, but she felt ready to go with it. It felt right to do this the same day as the first time she ever had someone to invite to a special dinner, the first day she could officially prove she wasn't alone anymore, that she wasn't a forgotten child of the system.

Emma ran her hands up Killian's back, dipping her fingers underneath the hem of his shirt and pulling it up. She could feel the burn scars under her fingers as she moved and each time she found one, she rubbed a few gentle circles over the raised mark, earning a shiver against her mouth from Killian. Killian pulled back just long enough to ditch the rest of his t-shirt, having to sit up to do it so he didn't put too much pressure on his bad hand. Because he wanted this to _last,_ he didn't want pain to block out Emma's prettily flushed face. Once the shirt was thrown off the bed he leaned back down against her mouth, kissing her deeply. Killian hummed his approval when Emma sucked his bottom lip into her mouth at the same time she ran a hand across his chest, scraping her nails against the skin just enough to mark it momentarily.

Killian pulled at Emma's shirt while they were still practically attached at the mouth and Emma ducked back with a laugh to move the fabric out of her way so she could reach his lips again. Killian let out a soft groan when he saw Emma shirtless, first moving to kiss her scarred shoulder reverently before drawing a path with his lips down to her chest and pausing there momentarily. The warm path continued, leading the way for the hot sparks that ignited deep in Emma's belly as he kissed around the waistband of her pajama pants. She sighed, too impatient for Killian to move seeing as Mary Margaret and David were due to arrive far too soon, and wriggled her pants off herself, using her feet to kick them somewhere deep inside the bed.

Killian rocked gently against her and Emma could_ feel_ him. And she_ wanted_ him. She rutted her hips upwards into him, looking for some action, for him to get on with it. Killian probably wanted their first time to be romantic and drawn out but Emma wasn't good at romantic and she_ really_ didn't want to get caught by a man who looked at her like a little sister and carried a loaded gun. Killian chuckled at her impatience and touched her where she wanted to be touched, whispering how beautiful she was as she moved beneath him. She came quickly, gasping at the way his hand continued to rub at her until her legs went weak and she was panting against the mattress.

And then it became instinctual. Both were caught up in the fact that this heat and_ need_ had been simmering just under the surface for ages, begging to be released. But neither were sure before, so many things had stood in their way and put this off. With the way Killian moved above her, rutting sharply against her, Emma knew that Killian was thinking about how much has stood in the way of this as well, and how determined he was to have Emma without something going wrong for once.

Just as Emma was coming down from the high a second time, Killian seated deep within her, she heard the click of the front door unlocking and the unmistakable voices of Mary Margaret and David fill the entryway._ Shit._ Killian froze above her mid thrust, and stared down at Emma, eyes wide.

"Emma, you up?" Mary Margaret yelled down the hallway.

"Uh, yeah, just woke up sorry. We slept in. Be out as soon as I shower and change." It was a fight to keep her voice even in her present situation but she did, a feat she was extremely proud of. Mary Margaret yelled back her acknowledgement and Emma heard steps move from the hallway to the kitchen. She released a slow breath.

Emma looked back up at Killian. She pushed him off and got up, tugging him towards the bathroom when he didn't immediately follow her. The shower started, completely covering the quick words she shot at Killian. "Be quick and be quiet."

Killian gave her a mischievous smirk, as if he thought that her friends arriving would be the end of their morning activities and that Emma would leave him hanging. But Emma still wanted Killian, for as freaked out as she was that they had been nearly caught on their_ first time_, he was still the person she loved. She gave his good hand another tug, pulling him in the shower after her.

Emma made Killian wait ten minutes before coming out to join her in the kitchen with her friends after they finished in the shower. Not because she didn't want Killian with her but because her friends would_ know_ what they walked in on if they both walked out of her bedroom at the same time, hair sopping wet and Killian still wearing that lusty blush she'd left him with.

Emma slipped into the kitchen and grabbed the coffee pot, pouring herself some. Mary Margaret sidled up beside her and grabbed a piece of Emma's hair which was matted from where she had writhed against the pillow. She hadn't had time to comb it out and just hoped Mary Margaret would think it was from where she had towel dried her hair. Emma thought she'd gotten away with it when Mary Margaret spoke.

"Have a fun morning?" she asked slyly._ Apparently not._ Emma blushed hotly.

"I slept in," she replied innocently. "First night in a while without Killian's nightmares." Emma said that part loud enough for David to hear but he'd been oblivious to the conversation between the women anyways so the raise in volume was unneeded.

"Whatever you say," Mary Margaret intoned sweetly, stepping back.

Emma couldn't look at Mary Margaret or at Killian for the rest of the morning without feeling a blush climb up her fair cheeks. Because one_ knew_ and the other still looked absolutely out of it, smiling like a dork even when nothing funny was said. So Emma kept herself busy instead, peeling all the vegetables then chopping them while David and Killian moved to the living room to watch the customary football game.

Robin arrived around two in the afternoon carrying a bottle of wine and a case of beer. Emma took them from him at the door and ushered him in, where he greeted Killian loudly. Emma left Killian to do the introductions while she went to put the wine on the counter and open the beers for the men, who'd gone and become cavemen as the game went on, hooting and hollering at the players as if they could hear them and actually wanted to listen.

Once dinner was made, just finishing cooking on the stove, Emma slid into the spot on the couch next to Killian. She'd gone the whole day since that morning without touching him and she really was starting to miss the contact. Which shocked her but didn't really do much to dissuade her. Killian wrapped his arm around Emma, giving her a squeeze in greeting. Even though Killian was okay to be out in public with his hand showing, he was so much more comfortable in her house, open and pleased when surrounded by only friends. Emma could understand it but sometimes she just wished he would feel a bit better about himself, feel as good about himself as she felt about him.

"This is an upgrade from our usual, eh Jones?" Robin asked as the group sat at the table, the food spread out in front of them. Robin sat between Emma and Mary Margaret, Emma positioned in the seat next to her boyfriend, and David seated at the head of the table next to his wife.

"No microwaved leftovers," Killian replied, spooning some mashed potatoes onto his plate. "Or cranky Jefferson because he didn't remember to take enough for himself and us. Even though we do the same thing_ every_ year."

After everyone had filled their plates David clacked his knife against his glass, drawing everyone's attention. "I wanted to make a little toast, if I may," he said, raising his glass slightly. David glanced at Emma for her approval and she gave a little nod back, curious. Speech giving wasn't exactly a regular occurrence at their Thanksgiving dinners, though had been known to occur at Christmastime if it had been a particularly trying or momentous year. David took a deep breath before starting his speech.

"As you all probably know, Emma's had a hard go of it." Emma opened her mouth to try and stop the speech, embarrassed that it was going to be about her but Killian's hand shot across the table and grasped hers, silencing her with a squeeze. "Not only this year, what with getting shot while on duty and then dealing with Killian's injury." Emma squeezed Killian's hand back when he looked down at the mention of his disability. "But right from the very beginning. I know she thought because of the rough start she had, and then possibly the even rougher go at university, that she was a hopeless case. Emma was certain she would never find someone to make her happy. To love her because she was this girl with too many issues and too big of a background.

"But that wasn't ever the Emma I knew. The Emma I knew was beautiful and strong and determined. She put my work ethic to shame. It took me years to learn about Emma and to make her comfortable enough with me that I could say that yes, she actually is my sister, when people asked. Because that's how I see her, how I've always seen her. But I'd begun to believe that the familial love she had with us," David motioned to Mary Margaret and himself, "and Ruby was all she was going to find.

"And then you showed up, Killian and made Emma happier than I've ever seen her. She's more affectionate with you than anyone. She doesn't shy away from your touch. She smiles and laughs more, even if she deals with the haunting memories of her past coming up without warning. You've brought the Emma I've always known forward so the rest of the world can see her too. So thank you, Killian Jones. I owe you one." David raised his glass, nodded at Killian then swallowed some of the wine. The rest of the table drank as well, Emma lifting her cup to her lips with a shaking hand.

Mary Margaret was crying across from Emma and Robin was looking slightly stunned, if not a little uncomfortable. Robin wasn't really aware of everything that Emma had gone through so he was probably very confused. But Emma couldn't find it in herself to be embarrassed about Robin guessing anything about her past. Not when David had just said those things and made it so hard for her to breathe.

She pushed herself up from her seat and closed the distance between her spot and the head of the table in a single stride. David rose to meet her and enveloped her in a crushing hug, lifting her off the ground a little bit. Mary Margaret laughed wetly behind them.

"Thank you, you big sap," Emma told him, pressing her face against his shoulder as he tightened his arms around her.

"Love you, Emma," he murmured against her ear.

"Love you too, David," she replied and then stepped back when David released her.

Before Emma could sit down Killian had stood and caught her up, arms around her waist as he kissed her, a bit too passionately for a Thanksgiving Dinner if anyone were to ask Emma. Robin hooted from his seat and Killian moved his good hand from its position on Emma's back to flip his friend off, never once breaking the kiss.

Emma pulled back first, because this was_ dinner_ not make out time, and she was hungry. And all the attention was beginning to be a little much, even though she tried to pretend that it wasn't.

"Enough," she murmured to Killian who nodded understandingly.

"We'll continue this later," Killian practically purred against her ear. _"Alone."_ She smacked him because David had_ definitely_ been able to hear and sat back at her meal to eat, ignoring the way David had stiffened at the comment.

And even though she was overwhelmed, her panic at being the center of attention didn't supress her laugh when Killian went to brush his sock foot down Emma's leg and did it to Robin instead. Because she was supposed to be happy. And watching Killian turn the same colour as the pickled beets on the table in his embarrassment made the laughter well up inside Emma like a geyser she couldn't control. And didn't want to either.


	26. Survivor Trophies

_A/N:_ So here marks the beginning of the end. I'm not sure how many chapters are left yet but there shouldn't be too many. I hope you guys are still sticking around after the last chapter. Since I didn't get a very big response I'm a touch worried that it didn't go over well. Thanks to those who did review! And to everyone who read, followed and favourited! You guys amaze me with your kindness! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

"Jones, you here?" Emma called as she entered her house. She'd left him alone while she got some work done. Killian had said he might go visit Robin or Jefferson so she wasn't sure if he was in her house when she arrived around six o'clock that night.

Emma had spent the day at the police station filling out paper work and taking a psych evaluation so she would be ready to go back to work after Christmas. While she was enjoying her time with Killian, Emma was anxious to get back to work. She'd joined the police force for a reason, to protect those who were in a similar position to the one Emma had grown up in and she'd already been off for several months. The gunshot wound had completely healed into a puckered white scar and the doctor had said she was capable of returning to work but Graham was stalling the process. Graham wanted her to wait, to make sure she was alright before jumping back in, and as he was her boss there wasn't much she could do about that. Emma had fought with him about it after her psych evaluation but Graham wouldn't budge. Which resulted in a fuming Emma barging out of his office and spending the rest of the day completing paperwork at David's desk, peppering her partner with questions about his current cases.

"In here, love," Killian called from the kitchen. Emma toed off her boots and pulled off her winter coat, hanging it off the door handle so the snow coating it would dry in the heat of the house.

Killian stood over the stove, shifting some vegetables around a pan with a wooden spoon pinched between his thumb and the two working fingers on his bad hand while his other hand opened the lids on various spice jars, adding dashes of herbs to the pan as he saw fit. Emma watched him for a while, a feeling of proudness welling up inside her as she watched how he moved without a hitch, pinching the spice jars in the crook of his opposite elbow before grabbing the caps between his thumb and forefinger and twisting off the cap. In just the last month he'd come so far in adapting to life with one working hand. While he still couldn't stand the look of his scars and didn't spend any more time than he had to out in public, especially out alone, there wasn't much he couldn't do if he really wanted to.

"You made supper?" she asked, leaning around him to better see the pan fried haddock and vegetables Killian had prepared.

"Thought you'd be hungry," he replied, placing a kiss against her forehead. Emma smiled, leaning against his shoulder. Several weeks had passed since Thanksgiving and Killian was still there, living with her. She'd become so used to his presence that she didn't want him to leave. But she hadn't told him that yet, though she was pretty sure he'd figured it out on his own and kept quiet about it because he understood Emma's hesitancy to make their living situation official. As Killian had told her on multiple occasions, she was an open book to him.

Killian plated the supper and Emma carried it to the table for them, sitting down across from the chair she'd quickly begun to call Killian's Chair. Killian settled in said chair and started in on his meal. Emma followed suit, enjoying the simple food Killian had put together for them.

"Anything new at the station?" Killian asked after a while. "How's David?"

That reminded Emma of something that David had given her. She shifted in her seat and pulled a small envelope out of the back pocket of her jeans. She slit it open, knowing that Killian still had issues with envelopes, and handed the invitation to him.

Killian grasped it and read it over before setting it down. Emma couldn't read his expression so she waited to see what he would have to say about the invitation. "A party on Friday?"

"For the premiere of Mary Margaret's new ballet, Sleeping Beauty. It's after the show," Emma explained.

"And you want me to come?" Killian asked, incredulous.

Emma furrowed her brows, confused. "Why wouldn't I?"

Of course she wanted Killian there. The invitation had Emma Swan plus one written on it. There was no one else she'd want as said plus one but Killian. Emma had gone to premieres before. They were black tie and involved a lot of wine and fancy hors d'oeuvres. It was all a show, where the influential people went to be seen and photographed and fawn over the dancers. Mary Margaret, as the principle dancer, would be busy all night being pulled around to this benefactor or that politician, leaving David alone. Which was why Emma always made sure to go. She was his company, and she was hoping Killian would be too.

"Swan, this is a fancy party. I know what goes on at those and I know what people are expected to look like. You don't want me there, ruining the pictures."

"Ruining the pictures? Are you serious right now?" Anger sparked in Emma's voice. Killian was going to ruin pictures? It just didn't make sense. Had the guy looked in a mirror lately? And then it hit her. "No one is going to be looking at your hand, Jones. People go to see the ballerinas."

"But my hand's still there and in a tux there's no way to hide the scaring with the sleeves." Killian's face contorted in pain

"You shouldn't be worried about the scars, Jones. They're trophies that you earned for surviving."

"You're one to talk," Killian bit back, eyes flashing to her sweater-clad shoulder.

Emma pushed herself up from the table, angry. She couldn't argue with that because it was true. But just because he was right didn't mean she was going to concede. She knew they both hid their scars but to her they were different. Killian got his trying to save Will's life. Emma's shoulder had been mangled by an angry ex-boyfriend. She wasn't ready to reconcile that maybe, maybe she had earned them for surviving the vicious attack years ago. Emma stomped to her bedroom and slammed the door.

Emma flopped on the bed and pushed her face in the pillows to hide the sound of her ragged breathing. She wanted Killian at that party with her, because that's what couples did. Emma hadn't ever had a plus one to take to these parties. Or really anything. It wasn't like she'd ever gone to one with Neal. Or that Neal would have even been fit to go to a classy party with. It was just like how she had wanted Killian at Thanksgiving Dinner. Emma had missed out on this kind of thing, this belonging with someone else, for her whole life, and now that she had it she wanted to do the things that Mary Margaret and David did. Because they were real. They were practically a fairy-tale couple. Emma was in awe of what they had built for themselves. Was it so bad that the little lost girl inside Emma wanted that too?

She didn't know what to do about Killian to convince him that his scars weren't something to be revolted by. When he looked in the mirror he didn't see his handsome face. All he saw were his scars and the awkward positions his joints had settled in after surgery. It wasn't even as if his hand was that visible. People noticed his face first. That was certainly what Emma noticed first whenever she saw him.

Emma knew she had to show him that his scars weren't something to be afraid of. But how does one do that when they were afraid of their own scars? It would just be the pot calling the kettle black and get them nowhere closer to a resolution. Emma had spent years covering her shoulder, hiding the evidence of a rough past. She didn't know how to reveal it anymore. If she even could. Hiding the scars had become such a major part of her morning routine when dressing that she didn't even think about another way anymore.

_And Killian would soon be like that._ The thought trickled into Emma's consciousness as she stared at the ceiling and listened to Killian pace in the living room. She couldn't let Killian turn into what she had. It wasn't a good way to live. Because eventually you convinced yourself that you were broken beyond repair and didn't even bother to fix your life. Killian falling into that dark hole terrified Emma because to her, he was the most whole and real thing in her life.

Emma rolled over and grabbed her phone from her pocket. She hit the number for Ruby's speed dial and held the phone up to her ear. Ruby answered on the second ring. "Hey, I need your help with something."

Killian slept on the couch the night of their fight. Or rather, tried to sleep. Emma had been woken up at four a.m. to his screaming, just like when he had dreamed about Emma dying in the engine room fire. Emma had coaxed him awake and dragged his shaking body to the bed and tucked him in. Killian had resisted, saying that he would be fine to just watch some TV on the couch until morning but Emma wasn't having it. They may have been on tenuous ground but she wasn't making him go through a night like that alone.

Their relationship had been rocky since then. It was obvious that neither wanted to give up completely but they were at a bit of an impasse because both were held back by the same thing. Emma desperately wanted for them to move forward but she wanted to make sure her plan was actually going to be able to go through. Because Emma wasn't sure if she was ready for it.

_But there's no time like the present to find out,_ Emma thought as she pulled into her driveway Friday evening. She'd been away most of the day at Ruby's, who was also getting ready for the premiere. Before Emma had left her house that morning she'd had Robin drop off Killian's tux and put it somewhere that he would be sure to find it when he got back from his doctor's appointments after lunch.

Emma took a deep breath, her heart already pounding, and shut off the car. It took a few more massive breaths to calm down enough to get out of the car and into the house. Emma couldn't believe she was doing what she was. Ruby had reassured her that she would be fine and she tried to believe that. Because Killian was the most important thing to her right then. She couldn't let anything stand in her way.

Emma entered the house and turned into the living room. Killian was sitting on the couch, fingering the invitation to the premiere, and wearing black dress pants and a pressed black shirt. His hair had been gelled into an orderly coif but he hadn't shaved. His handsomeness took Emma's breath away. Emma watched him for a moment, so thankful that he was in her life and that despite the pain he was in he still put on his tux. Emma hadn't been sure that he would put on his tux when she had planted it on the shower rod but she had hoped that Killian's love for her would have been enough to at least have him get dressed before he decided whether or not he really was going to go. Because that what where Emma's plan came in.

When Killian looked up from the invitation and at her Emma slowly took off the black dress coat she'd borrowed from Ruby and took a step closer. Killian's eyes widened and he stood, closing the gap between them. His fingers ghosted over her bare shoulders, pausing each time they hit a ridge of a scar. Emma wet her lips nervously and waited for his response.

The dress she wore had been her plan. It was a simple, floor length black chiffon dress that Ruby had stuffed in the back of her closet. A glittery silver belt synched in the waist, a little more Ruby than Emma but Ruby hadn't actually given her a choice about the accessory. The neckline was cut in a sweetheart fashion, low enough that not one part of the scar tissue that marked her creamy shoulder was hidden. The scars stood out even more than they normally would in the dress, the discoloured skin contrasting sharply against the inky black fabric. Everything Emma had kept inside and hidden was now on display for the world to see. For Killian to see.

"This is what you're wearing?" Killian asked in a quiet voice.

Emma glanced down at herself, self-conscious. Maybe the dress had been a bad plan? Maybe the scars were too monstrous and Killian didn't want to be seen with her. "Yes," she murmured in response.

Killian grasped her face in both his hands and raised her chin so he could look into her green eyes. "You are so beautiful," he whispered. It was as if neither of them could find their proper voice. As if being loud would break the moment.

"Not so bad yourself, sailor," Emma replied, her breath coming a little easier now that Killian had approved. Killian dipped his head to her and kissed her softly. When they separated for air Killian stepped back to appraise Emma again.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Because, I wanted to show you that your scars aren't anything to hide. I don't want you to start hiding like I did, Jones. That's a punishment you should never have to face."

"I wish you had never had to," Killian replied as he picked up his suit coat from where it hung on the back of an upholstered chair. When he returned to Emma's side he ran a finger across her scars again. "But, like you said a while ago, scars are proof that you survived. It would be an absolute honour to go with you to this party and show everyone what a strong person you are."

"What strong people_ we_ are," Emma corrected, accepting another kiss. She wasn't quite so scared of facing the looks and questions of strangers with Killian by her side. Killian helped her back into her jacket and led her to the car. It was time for them to go to the ballet.


	27. The Ballet

_A/N:_ Sorry for not posting yesterday. I'm in the process of moving into my very first solo apartment so that's been keeping me busy. I'm not sure how many chapters there are left but my guess is, that if everything goes as I expect it to, that there will be two to three after this one. I hope you are all still enjoying the story and thanks so much for all the follows, favourites and reviews! The number of each astounds me! You really are all awesome! Thanks again! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

When Emma and Killian arrived at the theatre they grabbed their tickets from the box office where David had left them and then moved to the coat check. Emma paused outside the door of the room, wanting to leave her coat on indefinitely now that she was surrounded by people in gorgeous swirling gowns and well pressed suits. These people didn't have a hair out of place, let alone a shoulder that looked like it had been put through a meat grinder. What would they think of her?

Killian placed a light hand against her back and pushed her forward. "I'm here, Swan. We're doing this together." Emma glanced back at Killian and the surety in his gaze made her step forward. She was doing this for Killian, because they needed to be able to move forward and heal._ Together._

Killian helped Emma ease the coat off her shoulders before he handed it to the valet. Emma didn't miss the way that the young man's eyes flashed immediately to her shoulder once she had revealed the old injury. Emma tried to keep her back straight under his gaze, which was too long to be accidental, but all she wanted to do was grab the coat back and cover up the marks of her violent past. And then run. Far and fast.

The brush of scar roughened fingers against the tense muscles of her back made Emma roll her shoulders against the pressure. A small sigh slipped through her lips. Killian was still with her. She had to remember that.

"Isn't she beautiful?" Killian asked the valet. While his tone was conversational there was a glint in his eye sharper than Emma had ever seen before. Like he was daring the valet to say something rude or not agree wholeheartedly.

The valet quickly nodded, obviously intimidated by the handsome older man. Emma blushed, embarrassed that Killian was making the man agree to such a thing, especially in front of her. What else was the guy supposed to say? She's as ugly as a brushed fence? Yeah, that would have gone over well. "Yes, sir. She is very beautiful."

Killian placed a light kiss against Emma's cheek after nodding his agreement to the valet. "And she's all mine." The whispered words made Emma shiver. Emma turned back to Killian and gave him a little push against the lapels of his suit. She'd had enough of his flattery. While she was flattered at the compliments she was still Emma Swan and this much attention was making her even more uncomfortable than the questioning had made the valet. And that was saying something.

Killian grasped her hand and led her into the theatre proper. The seats David had reserved for him were in the lower section, very middle. As the husband of the principle dancer David had some pull with the seats he procured. David, dressed in his best black suit, was seated next to Ruby, who, as her name sake suggested, was wearing a silky crimson gown. It was her go to dress for events like this and was sure to make all the men chase her. David's eyes widened when he saw Emma's appearance.

David rose and took Emma into his arms. "I never thought I'd see the day," he murmured against her ear. Emma set her head against David's shoulder when he hugged her tighter. Just as she did when she was next to Killian, Emma felt safer in David's arms, as if the stares of those around her didn't matter as much. In the arms of her brother nothing would hurt her.

"I did it for Killian," she whispered back.

"Which means you did it for yourself as well." David's tone invited no argument. Because he was right.

"Maybe," Emma answered coyly, unwilling to give him the full satisfaction of an admittance to his correctness. She pulled away from David and took her seat when the lights in the theatre dimmed. Killian seated himself next to her, taking her hand in his scared one, his last two fingers making a gentle circuit against her palm.

The ballet was beautiful. Mary Margaret was as graceful as she ever was, but wearing the custom tutu, studded liberally with purple stones and poofed out with lavender taffeta, she shone. Every step was magnified from the ones Emma had seen in her living room. On the stage Mary Margaret was a different person, grander than life, the motherly persona gone. On the stage Mary Margaret truly was a prima ballerina.

As usual David, Ruby and Emma gave Mary Margaret a standing ovation when the performance finished, regardless of the response of the other patrons. When Killian noticed Emma and her friends whooping in a way that was slightly too exuberant for a classical ballet he jumped up as well and joined in. A large bouquet of red roses was brought out to Mary Margaret. She accepted them gratefully, accompanying the thank you with a deep curtsey. When the curtains finally closed Killian wrapped his arms around Emma and grinned into her shoulder before pulling back and shaking David's hand in congratulations.

The three of them waited in the auditorium for Mary Margaret to finish in her dressing room before going out to the party. Mary Margaret was supposed to go out into the party with the other dancers but after the performance she had just put on the other invited guests wouldn't give her a chance to spend time with her husband and friends once she got there. By meeting the group in the theatre she had a chance to speak with them, sans interruption.

Mary Margaret swept out from behind the stage about ten minutes after the last person had left the auditorium wearing a light pink dress, her hair tied up in a matching silk scarf. She accepted hugs from everyone and a long kiss from David. None of them had brought flowers for Mary Margaret but they had all purchased some for her. After meeting all the invited guests at the party and receiving their congratulations, Mary Margaret would have enough bouquets to deal with. The collection of lilies Emma had picked out for her were sitting on the counter at home, waiting to be dropped off in the morning.

David checked his watch and sighed. They had hogged Mary Margaret for long enough. The people who were already at the party would be getting anxious to see the star. David held out his arm for his wife and she slipped her hand in the crook of his elbow.

"Shall we?" he asked, gesturing towards the exit with a flourish fit for a prince.

Mary Margaret giggled and pressed a kiss to the sleeve of his suit. "Lead the way," she answered and they were off. Ruby, Emma and Killian followed behind, moving as a group towards the lavishly decorated room off the lobby where the party was to be held.

Emma presented her invitation to the man who was running the door to the party. Ruby had entered first and David and Mary Margaret stood behind Emma, waiting for her and Killian to move through. The butler took the invitation and examined it for its authenticity.

"Emma Swan and my plus one," Emma told him, motioning to Killian. She didn't think she'd ever get tired of saying_ my plus one._

The man nodded and checked through the list in his hand to mark them off. He paused and looked back up at the couple.

"It's already marked that your plus one is here," the man told her, handing back the invitation.

"That must be a mistake," Emma replied, trying not to panic about Killian not being able to go with her. The longer the man re-examined the list the more obvious her scar tightened shoulder skin felt. She wouldn't show off her shoulder alone.

The beginning threads of a flashback began to wash over her as she was reminded of the first time she was forced to show off her shoulder alone. Emma had been getting her police physical before she could start active duty and the doctor hadn't been able to take his eyes off her shoulder. To add insult to injury the doctor had then forced her to walk across the hospital to the x-ray room wearing a tank top because he wanted to make sure her shoulder was still in working order, even though Emma had frantically waved it around to show that it was. Emma had wanted to report him for being unprofessional but that would have meant admitting her past abuse in the process so she'd stayed quiet. Emma tried to stave off the shaking that started when the flashback began to cloud the edges of her vision.

Killian stepped closer behind her, his good hand slipping around her waist and holding her tight. "It's okay, Swan. Calm down." Killian placed a soft kiss between her shoulder blades and Emma heaved a sigh of relief as the warm pressure forced away the bad memory.

David, perhaps sensing Emma's fears or also recognizing the tell-tale way her body had stiffened and then shook, stepped forward. "Matt," he said, addressing the butler directly. Matt smiled up at David, recognizing the principle dancer's husband. "Trust me; this is Emma's plus one, her boyfriend Killian. It must be a mistake on the list."

Matt put the list down and stepped aside. "I'm sure it is," he told David with a nod. David swept ahead of Emma and ushered her and Killian into the lavishly decorated ballroom.

"That was weird," Mary Margaret stated, furrowing her brow when they were all inside the party. Music swelled from the corner of the ballroom where some of the members of the ballet's orchestra had set up.

Servers from the catering company moved through the crowd serving canapés to the little groups that had congregated throughout the room. Each group seemed to have a ballerina held captive. The redhead who played the Lilac Fairy was being entertained by the mayor in the group closest to Emma. The director of the ballet company rushed over and whisked Mary Margaret away.

Killian pulled Emma to the edge of the room and braced her shoulders, using Mary Margaret's departure to sweep Emma away, unnoticed. "Are you okay?" he asked, ducking his face so he could better look at Emma. Concern filled his eyes as he ran them over her face.

"I'm okay," Emma replied, kissing his cheek.

"So no flashback?"

Emma shook her head. Of course Killian would be able to read her and know when the darkness started to creep in on her. And after just experiencing one. The notion filled her with warmth.

"It's gone."

Killian smiled back at her. "Good, now will you dance with me?" Killian flourished his good hand in front of Emma.

"I don't dance," Emma replied, nervously. She never danced at such parties. Usually, she just stood and talked with David.

"You danced with me in the kitchen," he answered, eyebrow climbing at her hesitancy.

When Killian didn't immediately put down his hand Emma bit her lip and sighed. "I can't dance," she told him quietly. "Not like this." Emma had never done the fancy dancing, the twirling and proper manners. The most she could do was an awkward shuffle and a few turns if she was led into them.

Killian smirked at her. "Well love, the secret is finding a partner who knows how to dance." Killian clasped Emma's hand and pulled her out onto the dance floor.

After finding an open space among the dancing partners Killian positioned Emma's hand on his shoulder. Killian's bad hand slipped around her waist, clasping it in his warm grasp. Emma's other hand went in Killian's good one and he began to move.

The couple moved together across the floor, Killian leading her along the same path as the other pairs. A smile started to pull up her lips as Killian led her flawlessly, his direction making her feel nearly as graceful as the couples that included the ballerinas.

"See, Swan? You're a natural." Emma moved her hand to punch his shoulder for using such a teasing tone. Killian tsked at her. "That isn't very lady-like."

Emma rolled her eyes and swallowed the laugh that threatened to bubble out at his words. They spun around and moved among the crowd again. When the song ended, Ruby was standing behind them. She tapped Killian's arm lightly.

"Now Emma," she started with a mischievous grin. "I don't begrudge you one bit for having this lovely man in your bed each night but right now, I'd like to steal him away for a dance and show him off some more. May I?"

Emma laughed at Ruby and stepped back. "Be my guest. Would you like some champagne, Jones?"

"Sure, thanks, Swan." Killian turned back to Ruby with a grandiose flourish. "Milady?" Ruby took Killian's hand with a deep curtsey and allowed him to spin her back into the fray.

Emma moved off the dance floor and towards a corner of the room where she could watch for the server with the tray of champagne. Being alone the presence of all the other guests was a bit unnerving. She didn't particularity want to hide; she just didn't want to be front and center. Emma leaned against the wall next to the open stage door and watched Ruby and Killian move together.

She was so lost in watching them, laughing herself at the way Ruby threw her head back and giggled at something Killian said, that she didn't realize someone had grabbed her arm and pulled her from the ballroom until a large hand closed over her mouth and a voice, all too familiar and unwelcome, hissed in her ear, "Nice to see you again, Ems."


	28. Territorial Jealousy

_A/N:_ I'm glad that you guys seemed to enjoy the last chapter, even though I did end it on a cliffhanger. I hope you enjoy this one just as much. Thanks for sticking around! Probably just one more chapter after this one, maybe two depending on what the next one turns into as I haven't fully planned it yet. Thanks for the reviews, favourites and follows! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators.

"Nice to see you again, Ems."

Emma was yanked into the empty stage area before she realized what had happened. The door closed behind them, trapping her. As the ballet was repeating again tomorrow the staging had been left up and the curtain left down, creating a completely isolated room. All the stagehands were gone. And would be until tomorrow afternoon. It was dark; the stage lighting turned off, making everything hazy and distorted.

The strong hands forced her against the wall, the one against her mouth pressing hard enough to push her lips back from her teeth. There was pressure in her skull from how hard the hand was pressing against her teeth, actually moving them in the gums. Emma tried to bite into the rough flesh and get free as her eyes adjusted to the dark theatre but every one of her muscles froze when she got a look at who held her.

_Neal._ So this had been the reason for the mysterious plus one mistake. She should have known something suspicious had been going on. Neal must have snuck in before Emma, claiming to be her date. He would have been able to give her name and he was dressed as if he had just attended the ballet. No wonder the doorman hadn't doubted him and allowed him entrance. Emma knew better than anyone how good a show Neal could put on when he wanted to.

Nothing had changed with Neal. It was as if Neal had walked back in her apartment the day after the chair incident. The possessive eyes that raked over Emma like she was naked were just as terrifying. Eyes landing on her scarred shoulder, Neal smirked, but it wasn't the kind of smirk she loved to receive from Killian. This one was nasty. "You healed up nice, Ems," he bit. Emma wanted to snap back but Neal pressed too hard against her teeth, completely limiting her ability to move her mouth. Brown hair in disarray, it only helped to give Neal a wild look. This was Neal in all his angry glory. This was the Neal she'd always known. The suit he wore didn't help make him look civilized. Or maybe this persona he was projecting had nothing to do with his appearance. Maybe it was because Emma knew what Neal was like. Knew that no matter how refined he looked he was still the monster of her nightmares.

The hand that had been on her arm moved so the forearm sat against her neck, resting on her clavicles. She couldn't struggle against him, not only because Neal held her too tightly, but also because the situation was all too familiar. The tighter the arm pushed against her windpipe the faster the flashback swept over her.

_Neal smashed her against the fridge door, the back of her skull cracking against the white door, staining it with blood. She could feel it trickle down the back of her neck, soaking the neckline of her t-shirt. This was the first time he had ever restrained her. It scared her more than the punches and kicks. Because now he had full control over her. Neal was too strong for her to escape._

_Emma didn't shut her eyes because that would make things worse for her. Neal gave her another shake, the force actually moving the fridge behind her. A guttural sound clawed its way from Neal's throat. Emma tried not to whimper in return. Not that she would have been able to make a noise anyways, not with the pressure against her neck, blocking out all the air. Her vision began to grow black and her limbs tingled with oxygen deprivation. As things went black Neal let go and stomped out of the apartment._

"What do you want?" Emma choked out between gasps of air once she had broken from the flashback and Neal had eased up the pressure against her teeth. "How did you find me?"

Neal leered at her and leaned closer. "A police officer shot on the line of duty? That's major news, Ems. Not hard to find you when you're in all the newspapers."

"I didn't go to the police," Emma croaked, mind whirling. There had to be a reason why he would come back, after years of silence.

Neal had left the university after Emma kicked him out, never to be seen again. But that hadn't subsided her anxiety that he would return, that he would come back and finish her off. She'd done so well with hiding her tracks, taken all the precautions she could while she was preparing to leave the life that still so involved Neal. She'd left the university behind without telling her professors where she was going. She'd left in the middle of the night so no one would see her go. David and Mary Margaret had waited weeks, not because there wasn't a job open in Storybrooke, not really. They had waited, moving back to David's hometown for a buffer period before following Emma in case Neal was still around and keeping an eye on them as well. The years without Neal had lulled her into a false sense of safety. Because of that she couldn't figure out why Neal would come back.

"You replaced me," Neal replied, anger sparking in the dark eyes. It was the same anger she had seen in the moments before the chair crashed down against her shoulder. The same anger that haunted her every time she looked in the mirror.

"What are you talking about?" Emma asked, trying to feign ignorance. Neal must have seen her and Killian together when he came looking for her. Of course he would get jealous. She should have known better than to believe she could be involved with someone else and not stir up trouble. Not only had Emma put herself in danger but she had also risked Killian's life. Emma's heart sank when she realized that. Because Killian had never been anything but caring towards her. He didn't deserve to die at the hands of her jealous ex. She had to protect Killian. She could practically feel Killian's presence on the other side of the wall, enjoying himself in the ballroom. It was a comfort among the fear Neal instilled in her. She would die for Killian.

"I never told you we weren't still together. You kicked me out but you didn't do anything else. I never gave you permission to become involved with someone else."

"You don't own me."

Neal rocked her backwards, slamming her into the drywall. It gave way, bowing under her with a sickening crack. Emma gasped as the dizziness washed over her. Her ears filled with a hum, as if a thousand bees were inside each eardrum. It was only Neal's arm against her clavicles that kept her from crashing to the floor. Her knees buckled though, leaving her in a semi-hanging position, pinned between the wall and his forearm.

"How could you be here with that man?"

"Because I love him," Emma replied, struggling to get her legs under her again.

"You_ love_ him?" Neal gasped. The momentary shock hardened into a metal glint. The groan of Neal's teeth crunching together replaced the buzzing in Emma's ears. "Well then I'll have to kill him."

_No._ No. Killian would not die because of Emma's mess. She shouldn't have said anything. Neal was jealous and territorial. Emma had known that._ Knowing_ that had been the only way she'd survived their time together. She used to be able to deal with that. And now she had gone and said probably the worst thing she possibly could. She knew he would do what he said. She_ knew_ how Neal would act, even if she had forgotten earlier.

She had to get rid of Neal before he could reach Killian. And to do that she had to do something she never had before.

Emma shoved forwards, pushing Neal back. It caught him off guard and allowed Emma to force a few feet in between them. Neal came back at her, grasping for her throat. She dodged it as best as she could with the dizziness that still held her down. She didn't move as fast as she could have and ended up with Neal's palm cracking against her ear. A whimper escaped her lips as the force pushed her into the wall with another thud. It made her eyes black out for a few moments, plunging her into a void of a nightmare.

By the time she had righted herself and got her vision back, Neal stood before her with a large switchblade, lips pulled back in a way that resembled a rabid dog. It hit her then, just how bad a situation she'd gotten herself in. Neal was going to kill her. And then, once she was dispatched with, Killian would soon follow suit. All she had to hope for was that Killian would be with David when Neal went after him. David was a good fighter. David could protect Killian for her.

Emma drew up her arms in front of her face, fisting her hands, as she cycled through everything she had been taught about knife fighting. The biggest thing when fighting someone with a knife was that you couldn't be scared of getting stabbed, because in a knife fight, it was sure to happen. Maybe if she got stabbed it wouldn't be life threatening and she would still be able to take Neal down and protect Killian.

Neal lunged forward, slashing down. The knife tore into the black fabric of Emma's dress but she was able to jump out of the way before the edge bit the skin of her thigh. Emma brought her hand down, hitting towards the knife in an attempt to knock it from his hand. Neal reacted faster than she had counted on, drawing the knife up her forearm in a long slash.

Emma gasped, pulling her injured hand against her chest as blood dripped down from the crook of her elbow. Emma glanced at the cut. It wasn't deep, it was just long._ Good._ She wouldn't bleed out from it. She could still fight.

She forced herself to stand straight and look Neal in the eye. She wouldn't be afraid of him, not anymore. Neal had put her though years of torment, years of being afraid of experiencing a flashback that would reveal her secret to someone who wasn't supposed to know because they so often came with little warning. However this ended Neal would know that he had no control over her._ Not anymore._

Neal's head whipped around as the stage door opened. Emma turned as Neal's knife directed itself towards the intruder. Her heart started to race when she saw who it was._ Killian._ He must have noticed Emma was missing and assumed something bad had happened. Maybe he thought she had found somewhere to have the earlier flashback in peace. Emma doubted he had thought Neal would arrive. Or maybe Killian had and that was why he looked so frantic when he threw open the door and rushed inside. Killian was panting, his face pale as he scanned the area for Emma. When he saw her his eyes immediately settled on the blood that covered her pale skin.

"Get out of here," Emma cried as Killian stepped closer.

"I'm not leaving you," Killian replied, much more calmly and determined. His eyes never left Emma as he moved closer. It was as if Neal wasn't even there.

"Neal's going to kill you, Jones. Please, I can't lose you too."

"I'd listen to her,_ Jones,_" Neal hissed, baring his teeth again.

"You shut up," Killian snapped, turning from Emma for just a moment. "This is Emma's life._ Not yours._"

"Exactly why you don't belong in it either." Neal jumped forward slamming into Killian and forcing him back before Emma could react. Killian moved forward, trying to push Neal further from Emma. The two men grappled and pushed against each other for a few moments before pushing off each other and stumbling backwards in opposite directions.

Emma closed the space between them and put herself in the middle of the fighting men before they could close out on each other again. "Look Neal, please. I didn't go to the cops last time. I won't this time either if you just leave." If there was one thing stronger than Neal's territorial jealousy it was his survival instinct, his need to look after himself first.

"There's one problem with that, Ems. Now you're the cop so that deal won't fly anymore."

Neal lifted the knife and slashed towards her violently. Before Emma could react Killian had pushed her out of the way and caught the blade. Blood immediately poured onto the stage and Emma was as stunned as Neal was.

Neal froze in shock when he saw how the knife bit into Killian's hand without Killian flinching. Killian stood straight, as if nothing had happened. That was when Emma realized which hand Killian had blocked the knife with.

"How?" Neal murmured, more to himself than Killian. But Killian had heard.

"I can't feel my hand you bloody bastard." In the seconds Neal stood watching the blade as it rapidly turned red, Killian swung out and hit Neal's jaw._ Hard._ Neal's eyes rolled to the back of his head and he collapsed unconscious, the knife clattering to the stage beside him.

Ruby, David and Mary Margaret burst through the door after that, a crowd trying to follow them. When David took in the scene, Neal unconscious in a heap, Killian and Emma both bleeding, he turned and, using his best police officer voice, forced everyone back and shut the stage door.

Mary Margaret rushed over to Emma as David knelt to Neal, checking his pulse before pulling out his cellphone and holding it against his ear. Emma shook her friend off and moved towards Killian. She needed to touch Killian. To know he was okay. To thank him for saving her life. Emma reached her non-bloodied arm out almost hesitantly to the spot where Killian stood, rooted to the stage, staring at Neal.

She took his injured hand in hers and cradled it against her chest. It was still pouring blood. "Killian," she cooed gently when he didn't immediately look at her. "Hey, Killian, we're okay."

Killian looked at her then and pulled his hand away. But it wasn't in a way that was hurtful. No, he did it so he could wrap his arms around Emma, pulling her tight against his chest. Emma could feel the rapid beating of his heart against her own skin. She made hushing noises and rubbed his back as best as she could without getting any more blood on his suit.

"Neal was going to kill you," Killian whispered, burying his head in the crook of her neck. Wetness pooled along the ridges of her scars as his shoulders began to shake.

"I know," Emma replied softly, bracing him upright. "But you saved me, Killian. You saved my life."

"I couldn't let you die," he murmured back when the shaking had stopped. They held each other for a long moment, only breaking apart when her friends came over.

"Graham's on his way," David told her as he took Emma's injured arm into his hand, examining it. "Neal's under arrest for assault with a weapon. Jail's his next stop." The clean handkerchief David produced from a pocket was quickly ruined as he dabbed at the long cut that had finally begun to clot. Mary Margaret did the same for Killian's injury, gasping when she saw how deep the cut really was. She pulled the scarf from her hair and pressed it into the cut, hushing Killian when he flinched away.

"You two need to get to the hospital," Ruby said after she had appraised the bloodied mess they were in. Emma knew she would be fine with a little pressure and a bandage but Killian was growing paler the longer they stood on the stage. The puddle at his feet was growing much too rapidly for Emma. Stitches were obviously needed and while David had stitched her shoulder up after Neal's last attack she wasn't going to let him do the same for Killian, especially not when Killian's hand was already so compromised. She wanted a doctor to examine it and make sure the nerves that had been connected still were. She couldn't stand the thought of Killian losing what little movement his hand had because of someone who had come after her. "Come on, I'll drive." Ruby pulled her keys from the little purse she carried and waved them slightly.

"Go out the front," Mary Margaret suggested, pointing off the stage so they wouldn't have to go back through the ballroom.

Emma nodded and put her hand out for Killian. Killian grasped it, still shaking slightly and allowed Emma to lead him off the stage and out towards the parking lot.


	29. Yet

_A/N:_ So this is it- the end. It's been a fun ride. I can't believe this is my second fan fiction of the summer. That's over 120 000 words since the end of June. And that's all because of you guys and the support you've all sent my way in the form of follows, favourites, reviews and PMs. I truly am grateful.

I hope you like the way I chose to end A Woman Like The Sea. For me, just like with The Absence of You, this felt like the right place for the story to come to a close. I really enjoyed this story and I hope I did the characters justice.

I do want to write another story sometime soon so hopefully you haven't seen the last of me. I think my next piece will involve pirate Killian, though Emma won't be a princess because that's been done a lot already. I just think that since I've done two with a similar Emma's story line from the show with Killian's back story manipulated I think it might be an interesting challenge to explore Killian as he's going from lieutenant to ruthless pirate and what happens during that transformation. I'm not really sure about anything else yet so if there's anything you want to see let me know and I'll see what I can do. I plan to start posting sometime early September after I move into my apartment and start back at university.

Lastly, thanks to Apenforaprincess for giving me the idea about internet dating in the first place. I had no idea it would turn into this but I'm glad it did. I hope you are too. Also, thanks to Cocofandicoot for letting me bounce ideas off you and for giving me the idea of putting the Neal confrontation on the stage.

Cheers,

Sarah

Disclaimer: All aspects of Once Upon A Time belong to ABC and the show's creators Adam and Eddie.

Killian followed Emma into the backseat of Ruby's car, seemingly unable to let go of her. Emma turned in the seat so she was facing him and held pressure against his hand. The silk scarf had been ruined and was sopping with blood so Emma pulled a handful of tissue from the box on the floor and packed that on as well.

"You're going to be fine," Emma said softly as Ruby pulled out of the parking lot. She wouldn't have been able to manage much more volume, even if she wanted to. Now that the adrenaline of the attack had worn off she was left dizzy. Her head ached and she was nauseous from the blow. Keeping her palm against Killian's cut she leaned forwards until she was practically lying on his lap. Her head was just too heavy to stay upright.

Killian's good hand carded through her hair. They paused when he felt the giant bump that was growing on the crown of her head.

"Oh, Swan," Killian gasped, parting her hair to see the injury better. Emma cringed and ducked farther into his lap. "Is this what hit off the wall?"

"How did you know?" Emma replied softly. Killian had found her so easily. She knew she should find out how but it was difficult to make herself go forward with it. She just wanted to go to sleep.

"I heard something smack the wall, frankly everyone did, and when I realized you were gone from the party I went looking. This bump is really bad," he added as he ran his fingers over it gingerly.

"Don't worry about me," Emma told him, fighting to keep conscious and continue to apply pressure against Killian's knife wound. Killian was the one with blood pouring everywhere. Despite the fogginess of everything around her she knew she had to keep the blood inside of him.

Killian shifted under her in order to pull Emma further into his embrace. The movement made Emma groan. The more the car rocked over the potholes the worse she felt. Killian's arms tightened around her, holding her steady against his chest.

"You have to stay awake for me, Swan," Killian said, giving her a squeeze. "I think you have a concussion."

"You're the one bleeding out." Her response was feeble at best.

"Then it's a good job we're here," Ruby said from the front seat, worry colouring her voice. It was only then that Emma realized the car had stopped moving and that they had reached the hospital. Ruby opened the door and reached for Emma, grasping her gently around the shoulders and easing her up from her position against Killian's thighs. "Can you stand, Emma?" she asked quickly as Killian got himself out and joined her at the open door.

Emma nodded. She could walk if they went slowly and someone held her upright. One foot in front of the other. Yeah, she could do that. Emma let Ruby pull her out of the car and leaned heavily against her friend as they made their way into the emergency department.

A nurse met them immediately and tried to separate Killian from Emma as they had different issues to be treated. Killian tried to hold onto the wheelchair Emma was set in, insisting that they needed to stay together but the nurses didn't listen. Killian needed to be stitched up and Emma needed an MRI to make sure there was no bleeding occurring in her brain from the hit to her head. Those two things couldn't happen in the same room. It was Ruby who finally managed to convince Killian to leave Emma after promising that she wouldn't leave Emma the entire time and would go get him if something serious happened.

Emma zoned out for the next hour or so, feeling like a mouldable doll as procedures and tests were performed. The MRI was noisy and made her already sore head throb but at least she got to lie down throughout it. It was confirmed that she had a concussion and that that was the worst of her injuries. The doctor told Emma she was lucky, that it could have gone so much worse considering the situation she'd found herself in. But Emma knew that. She'd had worse at the hands of Neal. Not that she told the doctor that. Emma was relieved to find out that she could go home that night if she promised to just rest and have someone wake her up every hour to make sure her brain didn't swell to a dangerous amount. A long pad of gauze was taped over her arm and she was left to rest on a hospital bed with Ruby until Killian had finished with his own doctor.

Emma was pulled from her foggy state when Killian entered her room. She peeled open her eyes as Killian took her in from his position in the doorway. Killian looked weary and drained but also relieved to see that Emma was going to be alright. She felt the same way about him.

"How you feeling, Swan?" he asked as he came closer. Emma shifted on the mattress so he could sit down with her. His hand had been stitched and bandaged but it wasn't as bad as she had expected. Just a light wrapping of gauze and medical tape covered the wound.

"How are your fingers?" Emma asked in return after giving him a little shrug as her own answer. This wasn't the first concussion Emma had ever had, even if her medical record said it was. The hit against the fridge Neal had given her had been harder. She'd had light sensitivity for a week and been dizzy and groggy for two.

Killian held his hand up in front of her face and moved his two working fingers. "No better, no worse, so that's good," he replied. Emma let out a relieved breath then reached up and grabbed his hand, wrapping her last two fingers around his own.

"Are you two ready to head home?" Ruby asked from her position in the chair by the door. She'd been speaking to Mary Margaret on the phone and been told that David and Graham had taken Neal to the station and he had already been placed in a cell. The charges he would be going to trial for, according to Graham, was be one count aggravated assault with a weapon against Emma, one count of attempted murder for what he did to Killian and one count of uttering death threats. Neal was finally gone from her life. Yes, she would have to face him in court to ensure he was put away for a good long time but at least that came with the reassurance that she could finally stop looking over her shoulder for him after the trail was finished.

"Yeah, let's go," Emma answered quietly. She let Killian help her up and slipped her arm around his. Together they made their way out of the hospital and back to Ruby's car, both still ending up in the backseat.

"I'll stay the night with you," Ruby said, getting out of her car once they'd reached Emma's bungalow. Emma didn't think she'd ever been so glad to see her little home than she was at that moment.

"Why?" Killian asked as he led Emma inside. The house was dark but Emma was fine with that. It hurt her eyes less.

"The doctor said she needs to be woken up every hour for the whole night. I figured you'd want to rest after the evening you had. I don't work tomorrow so I don't mind."

"No, I'll do it. I want to do it," Killian replied firmly, tightening his grip on Emma as she swayed a bit beside him. "I can take care of her."

Ruby seemed nervous about leaving but finally stepped back. She knew, just as well as Emma, that Killian would take just as good care of her as anyone else could. "Call me if you need anything."

"Sure, thanks, Ruby." Killian shut the front door. "Come on, Swan, let's get you to bed."

Emma and Killian shuffled down the hallway; arm in arm to the bedroom. Once they were there Killian set Emma onto the mattress and dug around her drawers until he had located a large t-shirt. "I was wondering where this went," he said with a chuckle. It was one of his old university shirts. Emma had taken it weeks ago, right after Thanksgiving. It was comfy like a favourite blanket.

"Can you get dressed on your own?" Killian asked as he brought the shirt back to her. Emma nodded, taking it from him. When Killian moved into the bathroom to change out of his suit Emma slipped off the ruined dress and yanked the shirt over her head, hissing when the cotton rubbed against the bump on her crown. She flopped onto the bed and waited for Killian to come out of the bathroom.

Killian padded over to the bed wearing his favourite grey sweatpants and a maroon hoodie. He'd washed the rest of the blood from his hands while he was in the bathroom and had taken a facecloth with him back to the bed. He ran the damp fabric over Emma's hands, scrubbing at her fingernails to flake off the dried blood. Emma shut her eyes as he worked, listening to the even breathing coming from him.

She must have fallen asleep then because the next thing she was aware of was Killian shaking her awake. Emma groaned and opened one eye. Killian stood over her, a mug of hot chocolate in his hand. He offered it to her after she had pulled herself up. The warmth of the mug did much to make her feel better, as did the sugar that filled the liquid inside of it.

"How are you doing now, Swan?" Killian's lilting voice was gentle, like a caress.

"Fine. Sit with me for a while?" Even after just an hour's sleep Emma was feeling better. She was less dizzy and the painkillers that she had been given at the hospital had taken effect while she slept. She was able to sit up and concentrate on Killian beside her. She offered him a sip from the mug, which he took with a smile.

"You scared me, Swan," he said after a while.

Emma looked into her half empty mug of hot chocolate. "I'm sorry, Jones." She didn't really know what else to say. Even though his hand hadn't been anymore damaged nerve wise, she still felt horrible for bringing him into such a mess. "You shouldn't have gotten between Neal and I. You could have been killed. What if your hand would have been damaged even more? What if you lost control of your other two fingers?" Emma only ever caused a mess. She was reminded of that the more she looked at Killian's bandaged hand.

Killian hushed her and pressed a kiss to her temple. "It would have been worth it, love."

"I'm not worth losing your hand over," Emma replied. She wasn't sure if it was the emotions that were making her head whirl or the concussion but she was starting to feel hysterical as she processed just how much danger she had put Killian in.

"Emma, love, you are worth it. I don't regret what happened to me today. Because it taught me something that I didn't believe since the accident."

"What?" Emma asked breathily.

"That I could protect you if I had to, even if I wasn't in complete working order." Killian wrapped his bandaged hand around hers and lifted it to his lips. "Ever since I learned about your past I promised myself that I would protect you from it, from Neal. And then, when the fire happened I thought there was no way I could do that anymore. How could I fight one handed? I worried that you would come to see me as weak and useless for you, that you wouldn't feel safe with me. I was just waiting for that to happen."

"You're not useless, Jones. I never once thought that."

"But I did," Killian replied, cringing as he remembered the painful moments of self-doubt. "You deserved someone who could keep you safe. I wasn't sure that I could."

"You saved my life, Killian Jones. Don't think like that ever again." Emma made her voice as firm as the concussion would let her. It wasn't as strong as it normally would be but it made Killian nod solemnly nonetheless. "You took care of me when I was fourteen and being beaten by the foster parents I was placed with and you saved me from my ex tonight. Don't ever think you're incapable when all you've ever done is save me."

Killian took the now empty mug from her hands and set it on the bedside table before pulling her into his arms. He placed a feather light kiss to the bump on her head before setting his chin against her shoulder.

"All I've ever done was love you," he replied, the soft voice rumbling against her.

Emma smiled but made a face. It this went any further she was going to do something she wasn't sure was caused by her feelings or her concussion and painkillers. She couldn't even put the urge into words let alone voice it correctly. And if she was going to do it, she was going to do it right. "You're too sappy for my poor head," she groaned good-naturedly.

"Then go to sleep and stop ruining the moment," Killian replied lightly. Another kiss was pressed to her sore head before Killian tucked Emma into the blankets and let her go to sleep once more.

The night continued in much the same way. Killian would shake her awake, give her more painkillers if she needed them and then pull the blankets up around her chin. Sometimes he slept, his phone alarm waking them both up on the hour but Emma was pretty sure by the time it hit eight o'clock and she was allowed to sleep for more than an hour at a time that Killian himself had slept for maybe two hours, three at max.

Emma roused herself at ten o'clock and looked blearily around the room. Killian wasn't there but she could hear voices coming from the kitchen. Emma pushed herself up gently and made her way towards the sounds. The lights in the hallway were too bright but at least her head had stopped spinning ninety mile an hour so she could walk in a straight line unaided.

Mary Margaret, Ruby, David and Graham were all in the kitchen with Killian when she shuffled in. They all sat around the table eating breakfast. Emma glanced at the calendar that hung by the fridge and saw that it was Saturday. It made her feel warm to know that even with all the chaos that had happened in her life recently her friends still came by every Saturday for brunch. When Mary Margaret gasped at her appearance and Ruby started to laugh she realized she hadn't put any pants on and was just wearing Killian's old t-shirt that she had gone to sleep in. She tugged at the t-shirt hem and blushed furiously. Graham coughed a laugh into his fist and studiously started eating the other half of his bagel._ Of course_ Graham would be there to witness her concussion induced indecency. Killian smirked and moved from his seat towards her.

"Shall we leave this kind of outfit for the bedroom, Swan?" he asked, clearly amused. Emma punched his shoulder before turning and stomping back to her room. Once there she flopped down on the bed, burying her face in the pillow with a groan. Killian settled himself down next to her in a much more graceful manner.

"Sorry, Swan. I didn't think you'd be up. They all just came by to see how you were doing. Graham and David were at the station all night."

"My boss just saw my underwear."

Killian chuckled. Emma rolled just far enough from her position against the bed to scowl at him. "In all honesty, Swan, I don't think Graham minded," Killian drawled. "I know I didn't." His voice dripped insinuation but because her head was still hurting Emma didn't act on it. Instead she grabbed the blanket and covered herself, including said aching head. "Aw, come on, love, don't be a spoil sport."

"Don't be annoying," she shot back but it really didn't hold much venom.

"You like it," Killian replied when he'd buried himself next to her under the covers. Emma made a noncommittal sound and nestled in next to him. Everything felt better in the dark under the soft sheets. Killian looped his arm around Emma's shoulders which resulted in his bad hand sitting on her chest. She picked it up, used her knee to tent the sheets around them and moved the burned skin carefully, like she did whenever he had a nightmare. But they weren't having a nightmare- that had been the previous night. Now it was to give her something to do while she processed what she wanted to ask him. What she had wanted to ask him the previous night as well but couldn't get her thoughts coherent enough to voice them.

"Jones?"

"Hmm?" he answered, watching her ministrations carefully. Emma touched the swollen skin around the stitches but Killian didn't even react. Not until she had made her way near the outer half of his palm. She was relieved to find he still had some sensation despite the cut, that he could still feel when she touched him.

"I was just wondering, if you know," Emma stopped, chewing on her lip while she debated how to proceed. It wasn't as if she had ever done something like this before._ Just spit it out, Emma. This is Killian you're talking to._ "You wanted to move that mountain of clothes to a real drawer." It all came out in a garbled rush but the way Killian tensed under her fingers told her she had been understood.

"Did you just ask me to move in with you?"

"You don't have to. I'd understand if you want to keep your own place, but I just thought that there's more room here and I'm pretty sure all your clothes are here anyways." Killian silenced Emma's rambling with a kiss, rolling over her so he was balanced a few inches above her by his elbows.

"I've been waiting for you to ask me that since I moved in," he chuckled back, searching her gaze to make sure she had meant it. She had.

Emma blushed. "Yeah, I guess there really wasn't a need to ask you."

"No, there was," Killian replied, smiling widely. "You making it official shows you trust me enough to occupy a spot in your life permanently."

"So will you finally move your pants from the corner?"

Killian kissed her again. "Will you finally put some pants on?" he asked in return.

Emma shoved him off her. "I thought you liked me without pants on?"

A knock on the door stopped Killian's reply. "I swear, if you two are in there doing it while we're trying to eat I'm arresting you both," Graham called out.

"Can we at least share a cell?" Killian replied to which Graham groaned loudly and hurried back down the hall. Emma gave Killian's chest a slap before rolling out of bed and moving towards her dresser.

"For that crack, you're putting your clothes away all by yourself." Emma pulled on a pair of leggings and marched out the bedroom door. It took everything she had not to grin like a fool as she entered the kitchen. The idea of Killian being in her bedroom,_ moving in,_ left her breathless in a good way. Who would have ever thought Emma Swan, professional lost girl and bad relationship expert, would have found a person she was comfortable enough to live with, who she loved,_ who loved her right back?_ If someone would have asked her if she could have found this back when Neal was in her life, or hell, even after she had been reunited with Killian and was still running scared, she probably would have been tempted to shoot the person for their absolute stupidity.

When Emma had seated herself at the table in Killian's abandoned chair Mary Margaret immediately pounced on her, her face lighting up.

"You asked him, didn't you?" she demanded, practically lying across the table to reach Emma's hands. Everyone else looked at the two women with varying degrees of confusion written across their faces.

"How did you know?" Emma asked because there was no point in trying to hide what she'd done from Mary Margaret. The woman had a sap radar. She probably knew before Emma had even left her bedroom.

"Because you look as happy as I expect you would had he proposed and since you're not wearing a ring I know that that is the next most logical answer."

"We aren't ready to get married yet," Emma replied quickly but she still found herself blushing and grinning at the table.

"I like the sound of yet," Killian said from behind her, surprising her. She hadn't heard him come into the kitchen and she blushed more furiously because of what he'd heard. Killian reached around her while she was still blushing at the table then taped on her shoulder. Emma turned to see him down on one knee, holding out a bagel to her. "Since you aren't ready to take a real ring and get married will you at least take this and have breakfast with me?"

Emma took the bagel and shoved it in her mouth as Mary Margaret made delighted sounds in the background. "You're such an idiot, Jones," she said, mouth full. Killian laughed and righted himself, pulling her from the chair.

"But I'm_ your_ idiot." And just like how Killian had liked the sound of_ yet_, Emma liked the sound of that.


End file.
